Whiskers Of Fury
by AussieBullDog
Summary: (Chapter 22 is up.) The Scooby Gang and the Angel Investigations crew are brought together to face their toughest enemy yet. And it's an enemy that none of them ever would have expected ...
1. She Will Scratch You

TITLE: Whiskers Of Fury  
  
AUTHOR: BulldogPhilbo  
  
RATING: For safety's sake, let's call it R. Just in case.  
  
FEEDBACK: See, it's this thing where you read someone else's fic, then you tell the person what you thought of it. The person gets enough good feedback, they keep writing. Everybody wins.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon? Yes. Me? No. Enough said.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: You want it? You can have it. Just let me know where to see it.  
  
SUMMARY: BtVS/Angel crossover. The Scooby Gang and the Angel Investigations crew are brought together to face their toughest enemy yet. And it's an enemy that none of them ever would have expected ...  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Consider this fic set at some point after Buffy season 5/Angel season 2. A few months, maybe. None of the new season stuff has happened. Also, this is a repost. I wrote the first 4 chapters to this story a few months ago, and I wanted to clean them up a bit and repost them before I started writing the next chapter. So if you happened to read these chapters before and are a bit confused, now you know why.  
  
DEDICATION: To Spikmeister. Bring on the army of kitten minions. And also to my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfriend, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Levi Truelove, MattyMatt, Shadowfang, and Sweet Kitten. It's you guys who keep me writing.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 1 - She Will Scratch You  
  
***  
  
Night time in Sunnydale.  
  
It was a little after midnight. Main Street was deserted, and eerily silent. If you listened hard, you could just make out the sound of two dogs barking in the distance, but aside from that, not a sound could be heard.  
  
Then, the sound of footsteps, shuffling along the sidewalk. Under the bright glare of the streetlights in the otherwise darkened street, a figure could be seen moving along the path beside the road. It was a young man, early twenties from the look of him, walking at a mildly slow pace. A half- smoked cigarette dangled from between his lips. He had a set of headphones over his ears, and he listened to a CD that was playing on the portable disc player that rested in a pocket in the inside of his jacket.  
  
As the young man passed an alley that ran down the space between the magic shop and the butcher shop, he heard a noise coming from the alley. It sounded like something being knocked over. A trashcan lid, perhaps, or a stack of packing crates. The sound, whatever it was, was loud enough to register in his ears over the music coming from his disc player, and it startled him. He stopped walking abruptly, took his headphones off and stuffed them in his jacket pocket, and turned his head to look down the alley.  
  
He heard nothing.  
  
Dismissing it, he was about to start walking again when another noise got his attention. It, too, came from the alley, but this sound was different. A strange, unfamiliar, unsettling hissing sound that created a disturbing feeling of unease in the pit of the young man's stomach. This sound wasn't like anything he had ever heard before. There was a frightening quality to it that he didn't like in the slightest.  
  
The young man stood frozen to the spot. The ugly hissing noise had registered within him a level of irrational fear he hadn't even known he was capable of feeling.  
  
However, that fear was nothing compared to the terror he felt during what happened next.  
  
***  
  
Night time in Los Angeles.  
  
Cordelia Chase was in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, seated behind her desk, struggling to stay awake. She had been to a glamorous Hollywood party the night before, and had been up most of the night. She had finally arrived back at home a little after five in the morning, and had gone straight to bed, only to be woken again at seven by the ringing phone on her night table by the bed. She could have sworn she told Dennis to take it off the hook before she fell asleep. It was Wesley, calling her in to work.  
  
And now, she had been called in again. Angel, Wesley and Gunn were on the other side of the town at the moment, fighting off a particularly nasty pack of slime demons, and Wes had asked Cordy to come in and hold down the fort in the meantime, and deal with anyone who happened to come by. Wolfram & Hart lawyers, for instance.  
  
So, here she was. Sitting in her desk chair behind her desk, and re-reading the latest issue of "Excruciating Headaches Monthly" in a feeble attempt to alleviate her boredom.  
  
Feeling hungry, Cordelia started to get up to go and grab a snack, but quickly fell back into her seat and grabbed her head, as the full force of a vision hit her like a thunderbolt.  
  
***  
  
Willow and Tara were headed back to their dorm room. Willow had to support Tara as they walked. The two of them, along with Buffy, Xander, Spike, and Giles, had gone to a dorm party that night, and Tara had gotten more than a little drunk. Willow had to take Tara back home with her, and leave the others behind early. She realised this when she turned around to see her lover standing on a table, wearing a lampshade on her head, and singing "We Will Rock You" at the top of her lungs, while a large group of college students gathered around her, cheering.  
  
As the two girls walked into their dorm room, only Willow noticed the mess the room was in. Tara staggered across the room, giggling, and crashed down onto the bed, where she promptly passed out. Willow, meanwhile, stared in shock at the sight before her.  
  
The room was a shambles. Objects had been knocked to the floor, the curtains had been violently torn and now hung in strips, and a familiar glass cage was lying on the floor, smashed and broken open.  
  
Amy's cage.  
  
Quickly, her heart in her mouth, Willow dashed over to where the remains of the cage lay beside the bed. Tara grunted, and rolled over on the bed. Amy was nowhere to be found. Willow squatted down on all fours, and started looking across the floor for any sign of the human-turned-rat. Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted something long and thin under her bed. Reaching under the bed, she picked it up, brought it close to her face, and looked at it. Then she threw it away with a disgusted and sickened expression on her face when she realised what it was.  
  
It was a rat's tail.  
  
Willow had yet to notice who should have been in the room, but wasn't.  
  
***  
  
Angel, Gunn and Wesley entered the lobby of the Hyperion, where they saw Cordelia sitting slumped in her chair, her hands at her forehead. Quickly, the three of them jogged over to her.  
  
"Cordy, what is it?" Angel asked her.  
  
"You okay?" Gunn asked her.  
  
"Was it a vision?" Angel asked her.  
  
Cordelia didn't answer right away, and Wesley motioned for the others to move away and give her some space. Angel and Gunn moved back a few steps, but no further. Then they stood still, watching Cordy with matching looks of deep concern.  
  
Wesley squatted down next to Cordelia, and put a hand on her arm. "How are you feeling?" he asked her, speaking quietly. "Did you see something?"  
  
Cordy nodded.  
  
"What did you see?" Wesley gently prompted.  
  
"A man," Cordy answered after a moment. She spoke in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. "An alley."  
  
She lapsed into silence again, and Wesley grew more concerned when her face showed an expression of pain. "Are the visions still hurting you?" he asked her.  
  
"That's not the problem," Cordelia replied, her voice still almost inaudible. "This time, anyway. It ... it was what I saw." She shuddered.  
  
"That's quite alright," Wes assured her. "Just take your time."  
  
Cordy nodded, looked up at him, and gave him a small smile. Wesley could see the anguish behind it, though. "This guy," she said slowly. "He looked young, maybe early twenties. He was ... he was on his back. Something was attacking him. There were claws ... and blood ... oh, God." Cordy started to shudder again, and Wesley patiently waited for the shudder to pass. He put a comforting hand on her back.  
  
When she had calmed again, Wesley spoke. "What was attacking him?"  
  
Cordy looked up at him again, and Wesley was shocked by the look of unbridled terror in her eyes. The words she spoke next sent a chill up the ex-Watcher's spine.  
  
"It was a kitten."  
  
T.B.C. 


	2. The End Of Laughter

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The lyrics used in this chapter are taken from the song "The End", performed by The Doors, and which I did not write. Hell, I wasn't even born yet.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 2 - The End Of Laughter  
  
***  
  
Xander Harris walked down the hall toward the door to his and Anya's apartment. It was roughly half past two in the morning, and the whole building was pretty quiet. Reaching his door, he unlocked it, opened it slowly, and stepped into the apartment. He moved across the room as silently as he could, not turning on any of the lights, for Anya would certainly be asleep by now. Aside from Willow and Tara, who left the dorm party early due to Tara's extreme drunkenness, Xander and the rest of the group had stayed out pretty late tonight. Or should that be this morning? He had invited his fiance to come along with the rest of them, but Anya had irritably begged off, citing illness. She had been suffering from a strain of stomach flu for close to a week. This was Anya's first time stricken by an illness since becoming human, and she hadn't been much fun to live with lately. If he wasn't in love with the ex-demon, Xander would have been seriously considering moving out and getting himself a new place by now, if for no other reason than to get a little peace and quiet for a change.  
  
As he walked into the dimly lit bedroom, Xander looked down at the sleeping Anya, who lay under the covers, not moving. Only her head and one of her arms were sticking out. Her head was turned to one side, facing his side of the bed, and the moonlight coming in through the drape pulled across the bedroom window cast shadows on her face. Xander smiled, and moved over to the chest of drawers in which he kept his pajamas. He passed the lamp they kept in the room on the way, but left it too turned off, so as not to disturb Anya. He found it somewhat strange that he still wore pajamas to bed, something he had done since he was three, at the age he was now, but Anya told him one time that he looked cute in pajamas, and the rest is history.  
  
As he pulled the top drawer open, Xander heard a muffled noise that sounded like a door slamming, and his head jerked up. After a moment, he realised that it sounded too far away to be his own door being slammed, so he assumed it was old Mr. Whedon from down the hall again, drunk on his butt, and headed out to wander around the streets of Sunnydale for a few hours, as he seemed to be fond of doing most mornings. Xander and Anya had been woken in the small hours of the morning on more than one occasion by the sound of that door slamming. How the guy could spend so much time outside on the streets of Sunnydale at night and still arrive back home in one piece every morning was beyond the limits of Xander's comprehension.  
  
Looking back down at the open drawer, Xander couldn't see his pajamas in the darkened state of the room. Hoping he wouldn't awaken his fiance, he reached out a hand, and turned on the lamp. Dull yellow light filled the room, and Xander snuck a quick glance at Anya to see if his actions had roused her. Luck was on his side, as she still lay peacefully under the covers, not moving. Xander turned back to the open drawer, and now he could see his pajamas. They were under a couple of his workshirts, that was all. He fished the PJs out from under the shirts, and turned back to the bed.  
  
In the dull yellow lamplight, Xander got his first good look at Anya. At the unnatural position her body lay in beneath the covers. At the rumpled state of the bedsheets.  
  
At the bloody cuts that streaked her face.  
  
Xander's breath caught in his throat, and his pajamas fell out of his hands, and to the floor.  
  
***  
  
This early in the morning, traffic in the streets of this part of Los Angeles was almost nonexistent, save for the taxicab that moved through the streets, headed for the Hyperion Hotel.  
  
In the back seat of the cab, Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan, Lorne to his friends, and the Host of Caritas, sat in an uneasy silence. He had been in the same uneasy state for the past few hours now, ever since that new guy who came into the bar to have a few drinks and sing a couple of songs gave the Host the fright of his life. Lorne let out a nervous breath, and absently ran a hand over his face, brushing his horns. There was no need for travelling incognito this morning, for the cab driver was Gordy, an old friend of Lorne's, and a Caritas regular. Lorne always enjoyed Gordy's visits to his club, especially when the cabbie was in a singing mood. His rendition of "Hey Mickey" was to die for, and it always got the joint jumping.  
  
Lorne cast his mind back to the earlier events of the evening, trying to ignore the heavy feeling of dread in his stomach, and not quite succeeding ...  
  
***  
  
(Four hours earlier)  
  
"The end of laughter ... and soft light ... the end of nights we tried to die ... this is the ... end."  
  
Lorne held the last note for a good fifteen seconds, then finished the song. Silence reigned in the club for a few moments, and then the entire audience, humans and demons alike, burst into enthusiastic applause as one. Lorne smiled widely, thanked his audience, and stepped down off the stage. He was proud of himself. His tribute to Jim Morrison had gone over beautifully, and he had never performed a Doors song in front of an audience before tonight, so he was as pleased as punch.  
  
Lorne moved over to the bar, and treated himself to a vodka and tonic. Behind him, a small, balding, plain-looking man had taken the stage, and was readying himself to do a Karaoke number. The song started to play, and the small man began to sing, glancing over at the small television screen every few moments as he did so to keep track of the lyrics.  
  
As he sang, over at the bar, Lorne started to feel strange, and a little faint. He had taken a sneaking glimpse into the guy's mind, as he did with most of his customers, just out of curiousity. These glimpses had only adversely affected him once before, when that guy whose little science project was going to freeze the world came in one time to do a number, so he didn't have any reason to think that continuing to do so would be too risky, but when Lorne started to feel the same lightheaded feeling come over him now, he began to wish he had kept his mind-reading powers to himself this time.  
  
Just before the blackness claimed him, the images hit his mind. They were fuzzy and vague, but immensely frightening in their vagueness. The last thing Lorne saw, before he lost consciousness and hit the floor, was a snarling feline's face.  
  
***  
  
Now, Lorne was on his way to find Angel and fill him in, but he wasn't looking forward to having to do it. A few months ago, one of Cordelia's psychic flashes had resulted in Lorne having to return to the place he had left behind him years earlier. Now, one of his own psychic flashes was going to result in Angel having to do the same thing.  
  
As much as he hated it, Lorne knew that he was going to have to go along as well. And so was the rest of Angel's crew. They would all be needed in this thing, because this thing was more dangerous, more horrible, and more terrifying than any of them had ever encountered before.  
  
And it was entirely possible, maybe even probable, that not all of them would survive it.  
  
T.B.C. 


	3. A Rat's Tale

CHAPTER 3 - A Rat's Tale  
  
***  
  
Buffy Summers unlocked her front door, stepped inside her house, and shut the door behind her. The house was silent, as Dawn had to be upstairs asleep in bed by now, but Buffy's ears were still ringing from the loud music at the dorm party. Willow had left the party earlier, taking a very drunk Tara with her, but the rest of the group had stayed around for a while longer, before Spike dropped everyone off at their respective homes, Xander first, then Giles, then her. Buffy was sure that Spike had deliberately saved her for last so that he could spend a little more alone time with her.  
  
Heading upstairs, Buffy stopped outside Dawn's room. Slowly and quietly, she opened the door, and peeked inside. Dawn was in bed asleep. As Buffy watched, Dawn rolled over. As she did, her arm snaked out from beneath the covers, and dangled over the edge of the bed. Buffy smiled a little, and closed the door again.  
  
Feeling tired, Buffy decided to go to sleep herself, then realized that she was thirsty, and changed her mind. Walking back downstairs, Buffy moved into the kitchen to get a drink. As she passed the phone mounted on the wall, it started ringing. Buffy quickly snatched it up before the noise could wake Dawn, and quietly answered it. "Hello?"  
  
"Buffy?" It was Willow. Buffy frowned as she recognized a distraught tone in her friend's voice. "Buffy, is that you?"  
  
"Yeah, Will, it's me," Buffy answered. "Is something wrong?"  
  
***  
  
While Willow was filling Buffy in on her gruesome rat's tail discovery, a taxi was pulling over at the side of a road on the outer limits of Sunnydale. Behind the wheel, Steve, the driver, took one last sneaking glance in the rear view mirror at the gorgeous teenage girl sitting in his back seat, then asked her for the fare. Silently, the girl handed over a hundred dollar note, then exited the vehicle, still not a word, without waiting for the change. Shrugging, Steve put the money away, turned the car around, and drove off, headed back to LA.  
  
The girl was eighteen, with long, brown hair that came almost to her waist, and she carried a backpack on her shoulders. Her face was blank, and she walked along the sidewalk, headed for the center of Sunnydale, not looking at anything in particular, alternating between looking down at the sidewalk and looking straight ahead of her.  
  
In the cab, Steve watched the girl in the rear view mirror as her reflection grew smaller and smaller. He wasn't sure what to make of her. When you had a job like his, you encountered all sorts of people, and usually, you were able to categorize them in one way or another. Not this girl. She had been hot, sure, but that was really all Steve had been able to tell about her.  
  
Eventually, Steve could no longer make out the girl's reflection in his rear view, and he put her out of his mind, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, and looking forward to the leftover steak that awaited him in his fridge at home.  
  
***  
  
"Then once I realized what it was, I threw it across the room. I mean, it was disgusting! Then I realized who it must have belonged to, and I ... I-I- I ..."  
  
"Hey, Will, it's alright," Buffy said to her friend, in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. "We'll figure it out. Whatever this is, we'll get to the bottom of it, I promise. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Willow sniffed.  
  
"Good," Buffy said. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't go anywhere, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Willow sniffed again.  
  
Buffy hung up, and headed for the door.  
  
***  
  
Willow hung up, and turned back around to look at the messed up state of the room again. Tara still lay slumped on the bed, not quite asleep. Every so often, she rolled over and snorted. As Willow watched her, she rolled over again, and snorted again. "Waving your banner all over the place," the blonde witch murmured, and smiled a little, her eyes remaining shut.  
  
Willow sniffed, and tried to compose herself. Buffy was coming over soon, and she would stop whatever had done this. If only Willow had any idea of what this was.  
  
Gradually, Willow became aware that something was missing. She looked around the room, and frowned. "Where's Miss Kitty?" she asked herself.  
  
***  
  
In the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, Angel and Cordelia sat side by side. Angel had an arm around Cordy's shoulders, and her head rested on his shoulder. Wesley and Gunn were upstairs, gathering weapons. If what Cordelia had told them was in her vision was right, Angel had a feeling that they would need a lot of them.  
  
Just then, the front doors opened, and Angel looked up to see the Host walking in. Lorne looked haggard, and worried. His eyes landed on Angel, and he let out a deep sigh of relief. "Am I glad to see you," he told the vampire. "We've got problems. Serious problems."  
  
"I know," Angel answered.  
  
T.B.C. 


	4. Cobblestone Stained Red

CHAPTER 4 - Cobblestone Stained Red  
  
***  
  
(Galway, Ireland, 1753)  
  
Curt had no idea where he was when he regained consciousness. The only thing he was aware of at first was that his head hurt.  
  
The second thing he discovered was that he was lying face down on the cobblestone, somewhere near the tavern he and Liam had been thrown out of earlier. Curt didn't know how long he had been lying there, but when he drunkenly climbed to his feet and looked around, Liam was nowhere to be found.  
  
Staggering a little, Curt began to walk down the cobblestone street, hoping he hadn't forgotten which direction his home was from the tavern. It had been a typical night of drinking and fighting for he and Liam, and he had only the vaguest recollection of the two of them being thrown out, and no memory at all of passing out and hitting the cobblestone in a dead faint. He remembered Liam saying something about his father's silver, but nothing after.  
  
As he walked on home, Curt passed an alleyway, and heard a faint noise. It sounded like something being knocked over. He couldn't place the sound exactly (he was still somewhat lightheaded from drinking, and wasn't at his most alert at this particular moment in time). It had passed his ears almost before it registered in his brain that he had heard something. Curt stopped walking, and turned his head to look down the alley. The alley was pretty dark, and he had to squint a little just to try and make anything out in the space between the two homes it ran between.  
  
There was nothing.  
  
Dismissing it, forgetting he had heard any noise almost instantly after he started moving again, Curt again stopped when he heard another noise. This noise was louder, probably closer to him than the previous sound, and it was different. If Curt had had more time to sober up, this new noise probably would have made him feel uneasy. It was some kind of hissing noise, one that seemed to echo up and down the alley before finding its way out into the street.  
  
In his still somewhat intoxicated state, Curt moved towards the alley, toward the source of the sound. It would turn out to be the last foolish choice he would ever make.  
  
Before he could even react, a dark shape leaped out at him, seemingly from nowhere, taking him completely by surprise. Curt's head snapped back, as the dark shape collided with his face with all the force of a runaway freight train. His knees buckled, and his legs gave out from under him. Curt crashed to the cobblestone path, as the first slivers of pain shot through his face and sent waves of fear coursing through his body. Whatever had launched itself at him now had a firm and unforgiving grip on Curt's face, and would not relent.  
  
In the dark night, in which nothing else stirred, Curt began to scream. His screams, however, soon turned to loud whispers of anguish and pain, as the last breaths forced themselves out of his chest, up through his throat, and out of his mouth. And as the blood that flowed from the deep gashes on both of his cheeks and above his eyes began to flow down on either side of his space and splash tiny red drops on the cobblestone, Curt's thrashing body began to grow lifeless, and still.  
  
***  
  
It was a little after three in the morning, and Spike was just arriving back home at his crypt. He stood just outside the crypt's entrance for a few moments, taking a few last puffs from his cigarette, until there was little more than a few specks of ash between his fingers. Flicking the remainder of the butt away, Spike dusted the ash from his hands, and walked into his crypt.  
  
The visitor he found waiting for him inside was the last person he ever expected to see again.  
  
Not that she was actually what you would call a person specifically, but he was stunned regardless.  
  
"Drusilla," he said, taking a few steps inside the crypt.  
  
The dark-haired vampire looked back at Spike from the other side of the musty crypt, answering his wide-eyed look of surprise and confusion with a small innocent smile and eyes that seemed to defy the darkened room with their brightness and mischief. After a moment, Drusilla spoke. "And I brought along a friend," she said softly, her voice lilting in that tone that seemingly only Dru could speak in. "An old friend. She misses you, Spike. And she's very cross."  
  
"You don't mean ...?" Spike started.  
  
Giggling, Dru pointed behind him, and Spike turned back around to face the open doorway of his crypt. The sight that greeted him caused his eyes to go even wider.  
  
"You," Spike said breathlessly.  
  
T.B.C. 


	5. To Be A Brit In Sunnydale

CHAPTER 5 - To Be A Brit In Sunnydale  
  
***  
  
As Rupert Giles unlocked his front door and entered his home, he looked down at his wristwatch. 3:12 am, it said. Good Lord. He couldn't remember the last time he was awake at this hour without some kind of demon to research or upcoming mystical event to investigate. A part of him still regretted accepting Buffy's offer to come out with the group to the party at Willow & Tara's dorm on the UC-Sunnydale campus, but he supposed it was good for him to be out and socializing. Even if there wasn't a single other person at said party he wasn't old enough to hypothetically be the father of. Still, Sunnydale was his home. It had been his home for the past five years, and if there wasn't a single person whose age came within single figures of his own in the entire town, there wasn't much he could do about it.  
  
He was fairly tired, though. Much like Buffy's eighteenth birthday party a couple of years back, he had pretended to be having more fun than he was actually having tonight. With the exception of one bleached blonde hundred- and-twenty-two-year-old vampire who wouldn't stop helping himself to Giles' chips, the former high school librarian found himself completely surrounded by twenty-something-year-old college youths. He knew his own youthful days of wild partying and debauchery were long behind him, and that he no longer fit into this scene. These days, he preferred sitting at home with a cup of tea and a musty old book, keeping tabs on the happenings of the forces of darkness in this town that sat, just as it always had, on the Mouth of Hell.  
  
Stifling a yawn, and closing the door behind him, Giles decided to go straight to sleep. It had been a long day of jogging and cross-referencing, followed by a long night of standing around listening to loud music and manufacturing interested facial expressions, and a good few hours of sleep would be enough to see him fresh and rejuvenated come the morning.  
  
Giles headed upstairs, entered his bedroom, stripped off, and collapsed onto his bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.  
  
***  
  
Ten minutes later, he was awakened by his ringing phone.  
  
"Bloody hell."  
  
***  
  
"Is he answering?"  
  
"Not yet," Buffy answered. She turned back to face her best friend. Willow looked a little better than she did when Buffy had first entered the room a few minutes ago. She sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, her legs folded, and her head down. She was still sniffing on occasion, and dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief Buffy had loaned her, but she looked calmer now than she had before. Buffy was glad her presence was helping Willow to feel a bit better. Certainly Tara was no help at the moment. The blonde witch was zonked out on the bed, dead to the world, grunting almost inaudibly on occasion. "I probably woke him up. I just hope he's not angry. He shouldn't be. I mean, once I explain why I'm calling. What's going on, you know?"  
  
Buffy knew she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She didn't know what had happened here in this room tonight, just that whatever was behind it had evidently taken two lives already, and not just one as Buffy had first thought. When Willow called Buffy at her home earlier, she was very distraught, and understandably so. You try discovering the remains of the rat who used to be a person, not to mention one of your best friends, lying under your bed sometime, and see how much you feel like singing and dancing. But as if that wasn't bad enough, whatever had killed and eaten Amy the rat had seemingly also done the same to Willow and Tara's kitten, Miss Kitty Fantastico. Willow had taken this newer development hard, and Buffy could only imagine what the redheaded Wicca must be going through, having lost two close friends in the space of a few minutes. Miss Kitty may have never been a human at any point, but Willow still loved the feline dearly.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Buffy was torn from her interior monologue by the sound of Giles' groggy voice. "Hi, Giles," she said, a little hesitantly. "It's me. I'm at Willow and Tara's. Something's happened. Or ... happening."  
  
"Something bad?" Giles' voice was clearer now.  
  
"Looks like. We need you here."  
  
"Yes, of course. Shall I bring the others?"  
  
"That's OK, I'll call them. I'm going to call Xander next, have him go over to my place and watch Dawn for a while. Then I'm gonna head out and find Spike. I'm not sure what's going on exactly, but my spider sense is tingling again."  
  
"Right. See you soon." Giles hung up.  
  
Buffy replaced the receiver in its original position, then crossed the room and crouched down by Willow. Willow's eyes turned up to look at the blonde Slayer. "Is he coming?"  
  
"Yeah." Buffy reached out a hand, and gently stroked the top of Willow's head, in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. "He'll help us figure out what's going on."  
  
"Okay." Willow's face had been blank throughout this exchange, but now her lower lip started to tremble, and her eyes started to tear up again. "Who could do something like this, Buffy?"  
  
"I don't know," the blonde Slayer replied, her expression firm. "But I'm gonna stop it. Whatever this thing is, it picked the wrong time to come strolling into town."  
  
***  
  
"So," Spike said. "Look who's decided to come strolling into town."  
  
"Spike. It's been a while." The blonde vampire took a few steps into the crypt, and looked at Spike, grinning slightly. "Miss me?"  
  
"Yeah, like a bloody hole in the head," Spike muttered.  
  
"Ssh, my sweet," Drusilla scolded him lightly, swaying on her feet a little. "Grandmummy has something important to say. My daughter."  
  
Spike looked at Drusilla with a slightly confused expression, before turning back to face the blonde vampire as she spoke.  
  
"Dru and I, we're moving in," Darla said. "And we're taking over."  
  
"Yeah?" Spike asked blandly, crossing the crypt to sit on the edge of his coffin, and taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Best of luck. Hope it works out for you." Darla and Drusilla watched him in silence as he looked away, took a puff from his cigarette, then looked back at them. "And this concerns me how?"  
  
Darla smiled, and her eyes lit up. "Because you're coming along."  
  
T.B.C. 


	6. An Important Lesson In Dagger Safety

CHAPTER 6 - An Important Lesson In Dagger Safety  
  
***  
  
"All I'm saying is, if Cordy saw what she says she saw, we're gonna need everyone we can to fight this thing."  
  
"Granted, an enemy of this nature should not be underestimated or taken lightly, but we're talking about a young woman who, to the best of our knowledge, has not so much as faced a single vampire, let alone ..."  
  
"So, what? We just gonna leave her here all by herself while we drive up north and go on a kitten hunt?"  
  
"Well, I hardly think it would be wise to bring her with us. We're used to fighting the forces of darkness, but she isn't, and this new threat from Cordelia's vision may be even out of our league. A woman like Fred has absolutely no place anywhere near ..."  
  
"Anywhere near where?"  
  
Startled by Fred's voice, Wesley and Gunn dropped the weapons they were carrying, and spun around to face her. The dagger Wesley had dropped fell on his shoe, the heavy silver handle landing squarely on his big toe. The ex-Watcher let out a yell, and immediately squatted down to grasp his toe tightly in pain between his thumb and his fingers. Gunn managed to hold back a chuckle as Wesley blinked away tears of pain.  
  
"Oops," Fred said meekly.  
  
"Angel's downstairs!" Wesley yelled at the brunette. Getting the hint, Fred left the room.  
  
"You alright, man?" Gunn asked Wesley. The laughter that wanted to violently burst out of his mouth he was just barely able to suppress, but the huge grin on his face was another story.  
  
Wesley looked up at Gunn's grinning face with a not-very-amused look. "Oh, I'm just bloody marvellous," he grunted. "I think I've just had my bloody toe broken."  
  
***  
  
Downstairs, in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, Angel, Cordy and Lorne watched as Fred came down the stairs and made her way over to them, standing just beside Angel. "What was that yell?" the souled vampire asked her.  
  
"Oh, that was Wesley. He dropped a dagger on his foot. It was kind of my fault. Well, okay, it was completely my fault, because his back was turned when I walked into the room and I spoke and it startled him and he spun around and he dropped the dagger and it hit his foot and he yelled out and that was the yell."  
  
The three of them stared at Fred for a few moments in silence, then Angel and Cordy turned back to Lorne. "You were saying?" Angel asked him.  
  
***  
  
In Xander Harris' living room, the telephone began to ring.  
  
No one answered it, and the ringing eventually ceased.  
  
***  
  
"Is he answering?" Willow asked Buffy.  
  
"No," Buffy replied, hanging up the receiver. "I don't like this."  
  
***  
  
Xander Harris walked slowly down the sidewalk of Sunnydale's main street, looking down at the sidewalk, but not really looking at it. His face was devoid of expression.  
  
***  
  
"Well, maybe he's sleeping," Willow offered helpfully. "Maybe the phone woke him up, but he didn't feel like getting up and answering it, so he fell alseep again instead."  
  
"This is Sunnydale, Will. Town on a Hellmouth. Xander knows to answer the phone when it rings at half past three in the morning, because it usually means bad news that really can't wait until sunrise." Buffy thought for a moment. "Will, can you keep trying him? I'm gonna go find Spike and ask him to keep an eye on Dawn."  
  
"Yeah, of course."  
  
"Thanks. Oh, and tell Giles what's happening when he gets here." Buffy left.  
  
Willow looked over at Tara. The blonde Wicca was still lying motionless on the bed, her face in the pillow. Willow sighed, walked over to Tara, and turned her over so she was on her back. As Tara stretched for a moment then became still once more, the phone rang. Willow snatched it up quickly. "Hello?"  
  
"Willow?" It was Dawn. "Do you know where Buffy is?"  
  
***  
  
"I'm telling you, Angelcakes, it was like that college brainiac with the time-freezing gizmo all over again. Although, fortunately, no vomit this time."  
  
"And he was gone when you woke up?" Angel asked.  
  
Lorne sighed. "Yeah. Guess you can't blame him for scramming. When the psychic faints, it's a pretty good sign your future isn't going to be filled with hugs and rainbows. But, listen - something big is happening in Sunnydale right now, and I don't know how exactly, but somehow, this guy is involved."  
  
"Well, we don't have time to go Karaoke bar-hopping again," Angel said forcefully. "We've gotta get to Sunnydale."  
  
"Don't worry about that," Lorne assured the vampire. "I've got a hunch our mystery man is already on his way there right now. And we need to be as close behind him as possible. Or else all hell is gonna break loose. And I do mean that literally."  
  
***  
  
The doors to the Bronze opened, and Darla and Drusilla entered, side by side, both of them smiling widely. Spike followed them in, a few steps behind, a worried look on his face. Darla surveyed the room, and her smile grew even wider.  
  
"Let's have some fun," she said cheerily. "Anybody hungry?"  
  
Drusilla giggled.  
  
***  
  
Xander was turning a corner into another street, still looking down at the pavement, still with that same blank, far-off look on his face, when he collided with somebody. The force of the collision knocked him on his butt, and when he looked up at the person he had collided with, he snapped out of his trance, and his eyes widened. The familiar brunette was carrying a backpack on her shoulders, and she was looking down at him with a wry grin.  
  
"Not exactly your smoothest move, Xan-man."  
  
For a few moments, Xander could only stare, but then he found his voice.  
  
"Faith?"  
  
T.B.C. 


	7. How Not To Pick Up Women

CHAPTER 7 - How Not To Pick Up Women  
  
***  
  
(New York, 1977)  
  
With the exception of two corpses, the stopped subway car was empty. One of those corpses belonged to a vampire Slayer. The other belonged to a vampire.  
  
As Spike removed the young girl's black leather duster and put it on, he couldn't help the grin that broke apart his otherwise hardened features. This had been a bloody incredible night. The protector of humanity was dead by his hand. Sure, this night didn't quite match the euphoria of the night in China at the turn of the century, the night upon which he killed his first Slayer, and he knew that, but this was still a pretty sweet one.  
  
With a cocky strut to his walk, Spike left the subway car, and headed off into the night. Drusilla would be sorry to have missed this, but she would at least be able to celebrate deep into the night with him.  
  
***  
  
Nathan Carter sighed, looking sadly down at the group of teenagers dancing and chatting to each other as the band played a forgettable tune below him on the lower level. The Bronze was totally dead tonight. He had come out to the club in the hope of finding a nice piece of tail he could put the moves on, but it was not to be. Every good-looking girl in the room seemed to be taken already.  
  
"Looks like I'm wasting my time here," Nathan said to himself, and turned to leave, only to bump into an attractive blonde, who looked up at him, and smiled widely. Nathan was fairly tall for a nineteen-year-old, and the top of this woman's head barely reached his chin, but she looked a little older than him. Still, when an opportunity presented itself to him as obviously as this one had, Nathan knew when an age difference stopped being a problem.  
  
"Why, hello," the gorgeous blonde said, smiling confidently up at him.  
  
"Hey there," Nathan returned, acting casual. Chicks loved that in a guy. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this?"  
  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Nathan realised that the line he had just used was hardly original, but this woman didn't seem to mind. If anything, her smile grew even friendlier, and more suggestive.  
  
"Just looking for a good time," she answered.  
  
"Hey, I know just the place." Nathan knew now that he had scored big time. He just hoped he wasn't grinning too much and making himself look like a moron.  
  
The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Really?"  
  
Nathan nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah, it's right outside."  
  
The blonde smiled. "Well, then, let's go."  
  
"So, you got a name, or can I just call you sweetheart?"  
  
The blonde chuckled. "Call me Darla."  
  
***  
  
Spike and Drusilla looked up to the top level of the Bronze, watching as Darla led the young guy away from them, down the stairs, and out of the club. Drusilla giggled, and turned to Spike. "Can I go and watch, Spike?"  
  
Spike thought fast. "Yeah, why not?" He smiled at her. "In fact, I'll come with you."  
  
***  
  
Outside, Darla let herself be led into the alley just around the corner from the front entrance of the club by her new companion. In actual fact, she had expected that the two of them would end up here. She was just surprised that he had been the one to bring her here, and not the other way around, the way it normally happened. Luring morons into dark alleys was one of her favourite things.  
  
***  
  
Spike and Drusilla came outside just in time to see Darla and the kid she was about to make a meal out of disappear around the corner. Spike immediately started after them, and Drusilla followed close behind.  
  
***  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
Nathan obliged, and Darla let her true face show. Just as she was about to sink her fangs into his neck, though, she was interrupted by an unfamiliar female voice.  
  
"Damn, I've only been back in this town eight seconds, and already I've got vamp issues."  
  
Darla's head snapped around to look at the person who spoke. At the far end of the alley, there stood two figures. The young brunette girl who had spoken was taking a backpack off her shoulders and dropping it onto the ground. She held a rather large and sharp-looking stake in her hand. Just behind the girl, a taller, male figure stood a few steps further back, his eyes never leaving the blonde vampire.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Darla demanded, an uncanny sense of deja vu coming over her.  
  
"Name's Faith," the brunette replied. "What, you haven't heard of me? Maybe you'll recognize the other name I go by. Slayer? That one ring a bell?"  
  
Darla's eyes widened. The deja vu grew a little bit stronger.  
  
***  
  
Spike and Drusilla reached the top of the alley, and looked down it at the scene before them. Spike took it all in quickly. Darla, game face on, holding the kid against the wall by the shoulders. At the far end, two figures he couldn't make out, although the taller one looked kind of familiar. Beside him, Dru gasped audibly.  
  
"Dru?" Darla called out. "Would you come down here for a minute?"  
  
"Yes, Grandmummy," Dru said obediently. She stepped past Spike, moving in front of him. It was just the opening Spike had been waiting for. Before Drusilla knew what was happening, she suddenly found herself being held tightly from behind by her Childe, and the pointy end of a stake pressed into her chest.  
  
"Spike, what the hell are you doing?" Darla thundered, shocked and stunned beyond belief.  
  
***  
  
In a cemetery across town, Buffy was nervously pacing back and forth outside Spike's crypt. "Spike, where the hell are you?" she groaned in frustration.  
  
***  
  
(New York, 1977)  
  
As Spike stepped off the subway car, underneath one of the seats, a small, four-legged shape lurked. As the vampire strutted off into the night, the creature under the seat hissed softly.  
  
T.B.C. 


	8. Dawn Of The Dreads

CHAPTER 8 - Dawn Of The Dreads  
  
***  
  
Tara came awake to find herself facing down into a pillow. Looked like the party was over. She tried to remember how she had gotten back to her room, but she couldn't remember much of tonight at all. It was hard to think past the headache, which pounded at her temples with all the ferocity and enthusiasm of a drum-beating South American soccer fan. She figured Willow had brought her back.  
  
Raising her head, Tara looked across the room to see Willow standing by the desk, facing the other way. She was on the phone, and talking to someone, too quietly for Tara to make out the words.  
  
Pushing herself up from the bed a little, and opening her mouth to say something and get Willow's attention, Tara was suddenly overcome by a vision-blurring wave of dizziness, too strong for her to deal with in the early stages of what was probably going to be an incredible hangover come sunrise. She collapsed back down onto the bed, her face hitting the pillow once more. After a moment, she passed out again.  
  
On the other side of the room, Willow continued to talk into the phone, oblivious to what had just happened behind her.  
  
***  
  
Angel heard sounds of footsteps on the stairs, and turned to see Wesley and Gunn heading down to join the rest of the group in the Hyperion lobby, both of them carrying large bags which would no doubt be fully stocked with as much heavy duty weaponry as would fit inside them. The ex-Watcher was heavily favouring his right foot, awkwardly making his way down the staircase. A couple of steps above him, Gunn lingered just behind Wesley, ready to steady him should he suddenly lose his balance, which had already happened twice since the top step. Wesley's face bore a very angry expression. Seeing it, Fred moved behind Angel, where she hoped the head of Angel Investigations couldn't see her.  
  
Beside Angel, Cordelia let out a snicker. "Hey, Lefty!" she called out. "While we're still young!"  
  
Both Gunn and Lorne burst out into raucous laughter, but a stern look from Wesley to each of them in turn silenced them both. Turning his gaze back Cordy, Wesley's stare grew even more angry. "How do you feel about unemployment?" he returned flatly.  
  
Hearing the unamused tone in Wesley's voice, Cordy got the hint, and backed off.  
  
"Wesley, are you alright?" Angel asked, concerned.  
  
"Oh, I'm bloody marvellous," Wesley replied. "Who needs the excitement of a ferocious kitten hunt when you've got your own recently broken toe to keep you entertained?"  
  
Feeling bold, Fred stepped out from behind Angel, and gave Wesley her best apologetic smile. "Sorry," she offered meekly.  
  
Wesley looked at Fred for a moment, grunted, and headed for the front doors. "Get moving, people. Despite my limp, I am still in charge here. Let's go if we're going."  
  
The rest of the group watched Wesley as he left the hotel, then started heading out after him. "Boy, he's not much fun to be around when he's cranky, is he?" Lorne asked.  
  
"You should see him when he's forced to miss Wheel Of Fortune," Cordy responded. Gunn let out another laugh, then abruptly stopped, instantly afraid Wesley had heard him.  
  
***  
  
Dawn was pacing nervously back and forth through the Summers living room, the cordless phone held up to her ear. She didn't like what Willow had been telling her one bit, and the fact that she had woken up a few minutes ago to find that Buffy wasn't there hadn't put her in a very relaxed frame of mind to begin with. "I'm coming over there," she said.  
  
"Dawn, no," Willow responded immediately. "Buffy wants you to stay there."  
  
"Where is Buffy?"  
  
"She went out to look for Spike. Spike's gonna come over there and stay with you while we try and find whatever's causing all this. She was gonna send Xander over, but she couldn't reach him."  
  
Dawn's heart skipped a beat. "Xander's missing?"  
  
"Well, we're not sure. Buffy tried to call him, but there was no answer. I'm gonna try him again in a minute."  
  
"Well, let me know as soon as you find him," Dawn insisted.  
  
"I will, I promise. Just stay put, OK?"  
  
"OK," Dawn reluctantly agreed, hanging up the phone.  
  
***  
  
As Willow hung up, a knock sounded at the door. Moving quickly, she crossed the room, and opened the door to reveal Giles standing on the other side.  
  
"Oh, good," Willow said, relieved, and stepped back to allow him inside.  
  
Giles walked in, and looked around the room. He couldn't resist a small chuckle as his eyes landed on Tara's sleeping form, but his amused expression soon turned to a look of shock and horror as he took in the demolished state the room was in.  
  
"Good Lord," he said, almost whispering.  
  
Willow nodded sadly, closing the door quietly so as not to disturb Tara. "Yeah, 'Good Lord' sounds about right." The redheaded Wicca also spoke quietly. The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was disturb Tara, who would probably have one hell of a headache right now if she wasn't unconscious. "We don't know who or what did it either. Buffy's gone out to find Spike and send him over to watch Dawn. We've both been trying to reach Xander, but no one's answering the phone when we call."  
  
Giles thought quickly. "Perhaps I should head over to Xander and Anya's apartment and check on them, make sure they're OK."  
  
"OK. You want me to come with?"  
  
"Uh ... no, that's alright. You should stay here, in case Tara wakes up." Giles headed for the door again.  
  
"Giles?"  
  
He turned back to look at Willow. "Hmm?"  
  
Willow looked at him seriously. "Be careful."  
  
Giles gave her a small smile. "I will." Than he opened the door, and left. As he closed the door behind him, a little too loudly, the noise echoed up and down the corridor outside. Afraid the sound had roused Tara, Willow looked over at the bed, but Tara was still dead to the world.  
  
"She's gonna be sorry when she wakes up in the morning," Willow murmured to herself.  
  
***  
  
The front doors of the Hyperion opened, and a figure dressed in grey slacks and a pale brown short-sleeved shirt, wearing a bright sparkly purple cape, and wielding a large silver broadsword, dramatically leaped in through the doorway, striking a threatening pose with his sword as he landed on the plush red carpet. "Demons of the underworld, bew..."  
  
David Nabbit trailed off, as he realized he was addressing an empty hotel. He looked around the lobby and up towards the upper levels, looking for any sign that somebody was around.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
***  
  
Dawn sat on the couch in the living room, the TV on in front of her, but not really paying any attention to the program that was on. Willow hadn't called back yet, and she was still worried about Xander. She knew that he and Anya were happily engaged, but old crushes died hard, and it seemed to her that she knew that particular fact of life better than anyone.  
  
A knock at the front door interrupted her troubled thoughts. Getting up and crossing to the door, she was about to grab the doorknob and turn it when she suddenly stopped. Wouldn't be a very good idea to just open the door when literally anything could be on the other side, especially considering what Willow had told her over the phone earlier. It was probably Spike, but you could never be too certain in this town.  
  
Looking through the glass, she saw a reasonably attractive man standing on the doorstep. Late twenties or early thirties from the look of him. He wore a grey T-shirt and blue jeans, and he carried a backpack over his right shoulder.  
  
Dawn opened the door, and took a better look at the guy. Reasonably attractive? Hardly. Brown hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones ... this guy was a full-blown hottie! Any and all thoughts of Xander or Spike vanished from her mind in that moment.  
  
Outwardly, she remained straight-faced. "Hello?"  
  
"Does Buffy Summers live here?" the guy asked.  
  
"Depends. Who the hell are you?"  
  
"Don't worry." The guy reached into his T-shirt, and pulled out a silver cross on a chain which hung around his neck for her to see. "I'm not a vampire." He smiled a little. "You must be Dawn."  
  
Dawn's eyes widened. "How do you know who I am?"  
  
The guy chuckled. "I know quite a bit about you. We had quite the file on you at my old place of employment. But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is I need to see the Slayer right away."  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Dawn repeated, realising she hadn't gotten an answer to that question the first time round.  
  
The guy chuckled again. "My name is Lindsey McDonald, and this really can't wait."  
  
T.B.C. 


	9. Too Much Pizza Will Do That

Whiskers Of Fury (9/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Levi Truelove, MattyMatt, Rayven, Shadowfang, superrmk and Sweet Kitten. It's you guys who keep me writing.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Gasp! There's naughty words in this chapter! Two of them! Quick, send the kiddies to bed! Lock the windows! And if a stranger wearing a ski mask knocks on your front door in the small hours of the morning, make sure he really does have car trouble before you let him in to use the phone. And keep that tranquilizer gun handy just in case things get ugly and you need it. But for now, on with the story.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 9 - Too Much Pizza Will Do That  
  
***  
  
Xander Harris was starting to believe this whole night was just some really fucked up dream he was having. He wasn't standing here, in this alley. No, sir. Right now, he was asleep in bed beside Anya, who had not been killed or violently attacked in any way, thank you very much. He had just eaten one slice of pizza too many tonight, and this was the price he was paying.  
  
In his head, Xander began to review the events of this night over again. First, drunken Tara at the dorm party. Since when? Tara just wasn't the type to get herself smashed like that. If any member of the Scoobies was gonna get smashed, it had to be Spike. But the chipped vampire hadn't even gone near the booze, opting instead to stuff himself full of chips (most of which he stole from Giles while he was looking the other way). Again, since when?  
  
Next, Spike offering to drive everyone home after the party was over. Huh? Even if Buffy was riding shotgun, and the bleached blonde vamp kept subtly adjusting the rear view mirror so he could sneak peeks down the front of her shirt, that ain't gonna happen.  
  
Next, coming home and finding Anya's dead body lying motionless in their bed, his fiance having been savagely mauled by something or other. Nuh-uh. That didn't happen either.  
  
Then what happened? Let's see. He left the apartment, and went wandering aimlessly around the streets of Sunnydale for a while. Oh, yeah. There's a sensible thing to be doing in this town when sunrise is still hours away. And who does he just happen to bump into, of all people? Faith. Excuse me, but isn't she in prison? What, so they just let her out for an early morning stroll in a town hours away from L.A.? You couldn't write a story like this and not be locked up for being insane and a moron.  
  
So when Faith decides to tag along, the two of them find themselves in an alley. And what happens? Vampire attack. That, at least, is believable. Town on a Hellmouth, after all. But then, the vampire in the alley (who does look a bit familiar) calls out to someone named "Dru". And that can only mean one thing. Undead Insane Girl's back. Always a good time. Not that this part was actually happening either.  
  
"Dru?" the vampire calls out, looking down the other end of the alley at the two figures standing side by side. "Would you come down here for a minute?" One of the figures starts to move, but the other quickly and suddenly grabs her from behind, holding her tightly in place.  
  
And just when Xander thinks that this dream can't get any more fucked up, a familiar and annoying British voice rings out down the alley.  
  
***  
  
"Grandmummy?" Drusilla whimpered, struggling to free herself from Spike's grasp. He had a firm hold on her, though, and her efforts were for nought.  
  
"Hey, Darla!" Spike called out. "You think you can just waltz back in here and do whatever you like and I'll just sit back and watch? Never gonna happen, honey."  
  
Darla's vamped-out face bore an angry expression as she glared daggers at Spike. "Drusilla told me about you," she spat out. "How you help protect these pathetic creatures." She motioned to the young guy she still held against the wall in front of her, her hand clutching his throat. His eyes were bugging out of his head, and he was making small choking sounds. "How you run like a frightened mouse to do the Slayer's bidding. It makes me sick. You're pathetic."  
  
Drusilla felt Spike's hold on her grow just a little bit tighter when Darla mentioned the Slayer. "Oh, I'm sorry," Spike responded, a mock tone of interest in his voice. He vamped out himself now for extra effect. "I didn't realize you wanted me to stake your sire. Feel free to keep insulting me if that's what you want, though." Drusilla let out a loud squeal as she felt the tip of Spike's stake press harder into her chest.  
  
"Uh, excuse me?" Faith called from the other end of the alley. "Slayer over here, holding a stake, about to start dusting, remember me?"  
  
"Buffy?" Spike called out, uncertain. She didn't sound like Buffy. "That you?"  
  
***  
  
Xander had been watching this exchange, not speaking. He had been too stunned for words up until now. This dream just kept on getting stranger. First, Drusilla back in town, then Spike standing right beside her, then Spike threatening to stake his own sire, and now it appeared that the vampire Spike was talking to was none other that Darla, Angel's sire.  
  
Only one problem with that, though. Hadn't she been a pile of dust for a few years now? Yet another reason why he had to be dreaming all of this.  
  
Now he found his voice. Hell, this was his dream. He might as well have a speaking role. "Sorry to disappoint you, Spike, but you've got the wrong Slayer."  
  
Spike was opening his mouth to call something else out, but just then, Darla hissed at Faith, and tossed the guy she'd been holding against the wall in her direction. Faith stepped aside to avoid being knocked down, but Xander wasn't so lucky. Faith's movement only made him the new target. The guy smacked into him, and they both went down. The guy scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, and took off screaming into the night. Xander was slower in getting back to his feet, hurting from his collision with the ground.  
  
Quick as a flash, taking advantage of Faith's momentary distraction, Darla turned and ran in the opposite direction, heading right for Spike and Drusilla. Spike barely had time to release Dru and step aside before Darla barrelled into her. Dru was almost bowled over, but Darla caught her by the arm, and the two of them took off, disappearing into the darkness as Spike looked on. He considered going after them, but decided it was futile. Besides, if what Darla had told him earlier was any indication, they wouldn't be going far. He'd see them both again soon enough.  
  
Turning back, Spike looked at the two figures who were now approaching him. He thought he had heard Xander's voice before, and sure enough, there he was. He was limping a little as he walked, still feeling the effects of his collision with Darla's intended snack. And though Spike had never laid eyes on the stake-wielding brunette beside Xander (not in the strictest sense, at least), he had a pretty good idea who she was.  
  
"Looks like we meet again, Spike," she greeted him as the two of them reached him and stopped.  
  
Spike grinned at her a little. "Looks like. Although I don't remember you being quite so ... not blonde as you were the last time."  
  
Faith had to return the vampire's grin at that.  
  
"You guys know each other?" Xander asked them.  
  
"You might say." Spike's eyes never left Faith. "Bit over a year ago now. She really livened up a dull night for me."  
  
"I wasn't really myself that night," Faith told Xander.  
  
"Oh," Xander said, joining the dots. "You were Buffy." He spoke pretty calmly as he said it. Under ordinary circumstances, any conversation about Faith being in Buffy's body would be making him really uneasy. But you were normally awake during ordinary circumstances.  
  
Faith nodded, then looked back at Spike. "So. I take it William the Bloody is still wearing his white hat these days?"  
  
***  
  
The phone rang, and Willow quickly snatched it up before it could disturb Tara. Crossing to the other side of the room again, she spoke quietly into the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
She was expecting it to be either Dawn or Buffy. It was neither.  
  
"Willow?" Cordelia said. "Is that you? It's kinda hard to hear you with this static."  
  
"Cordelia? Yeah, it's me. What is it? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Boy, that's the understatement of the year so far," Cordy replied. Willow couldn't help but grin when she heard the old bitchy Queen C come out in that voice. "Just on the off-chance, you guys wouldn't happen to be having a kitten problem, would you?"  
  
Willow frowned. "What? A kitten problem?"  
  
T.B.C. 


	10. Silence In Green

Whiskers Of Fury (10/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, MattyMatt, Rayven, Shadowfang, silver, superrmk and Sweet Kitten. With the kind of feedback you guys have given me so far, how could I not keep writing this story? I'd marry every single one of you if it were legal.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 10 - Silence In Green  
  
***  
  
It was about half past four in the morning, and traffic going both in and out of Los Angeles was starting to pick up again. Amongst the outgoing traffic, a shiny, black convertible with the top down, headed north for Sunnydale.  
  
Behind the wheel, Angel was deep in thought. He had heard that letting your mind wander while you were driving was not an incredibly intelligent thing to do, but it didn't seem to be doing any harm so far. He was still having trouble getting his head around the idea that he was returning to Sunnydale. So much had changed since he was last there, he wondered if the town would even recognise him anymore.  
  
Beside him, Cordelia sat in the middle of the front seat, talking loudly into her cellphone to combat the static she was trying to be heard over. Wesley sat on Cordy's other side, looking expressionlessly at the passing buildings as they left L.A. Gunn, Fred and Lorne were in the back.  
  
"Willow? Is that you?" Cordy moved around in her seat, leaning forward, then back again, twisting around from side to side, as she tried to position the cellphone so the interference would be as small as she could get it while she tried to talk to Willow. "It's kinda hard to hear you with this static."  
  
In the back seat, Fred leaned over toward Gunn, and spoke softly into his ear. "So, why's this kitten such a big problem that it needs all of us to go and find it and kick its ass?"  
  
Gunn raised his eyebrows. That was the strongest language he'd heard Fred use since they brought her back from Pylea with them. "I dunno," he asnwered quietly, turning his head to face her. "Wesley didn't tell me much back at the hotel. Guy's got a real stick up his butt ever since we found out about this kitten thing." Gunn's eyes flicked over to the leader of Angel Investigations sitting up the front, hoping he hadn't heard his name being mentioned. If Wesley had heard his name, though, he didn't show it. The ex-Watcher remained as he was, staring out at the street and the traffic and the buildings, looking distant. Gunn didn't think either he or Fred were among Wesley's favourite people right now - Fred for startling their boss into dropping the heavy dagger onto his foot earlier, and Gunn for laughing at him, more than once.  
  
"Boy, that's the understatement of the year so far. Just on the off-chance, you guys wouldn't happen to be having a kitten problem, would you?"  
  
Beside Cordelia, Angel looked irritated, flinching away from her as she spoke loudly into her cellphone. "Hey, Cordy, you wanna keep it down? I can barely hear my heart beating over here."  
  
Cordy smiled sarcastically at the vampire. "Oh, so very, very funny." She looked away from him again. "What? Oh, no, not you, Willow. What are you saying? ... Hello? ... Will, are you there?" Sighing loudly in frustration, Cordy slammed the cellphone shut, and tossed it uncaringly onto the dashboard. "You were right about the warlock."  
  
"Huh?" Angel looked at Cordy in confusion for a moment, then back at the road in front of him.  
  
"The warlock?" Cordy prodded him. "You know? The really bored one who you said invented cellphones? I'll bet that's exactly how it happened."  
  
Angel got it now. "Oh," he said. "So, what did Willow say?"  
  
Cordy sighed again, her expression turning serious. "I don't know, I could barely hear her. I'm really worried, Angel. Something incredibly bad is happening in Sunnydale right now, and whatever this kitten's prime goal is, there's nobody up there that can really stop it right now, you know? I mean, with one Slayer in prison, and the other ..." Cordy trailed off. The look on Angel's face told her she didn't need to finish that sentence.  
  
"Yeah, I know." Angel said no more.  
  
In the back seat, Gunn looked over at Lorne. Like the man seated in front of him, the green-skinned Pylean looked like he was a million miles away. He hadn't seemed to have heard any of the conversation since the six of them all climbed into Angel's convertible and left the hotel. "Hey, man, you alright?" Gunn asked him.  
  
Lorne snapped out of his trance, and looked back over at Gunn. "Hmm? Oh, me. No, I'm fine." He frowned. "Why?"  
  
"Nothin'," Gunn answered. "'Cept that that's the first thing you've said in over five mintues now. I can't remember that ever happening ..." He considered this for a few seconds. "... well, ever."  
  
Fred was looking at Lorne with some concern. "Are you alright?" she asked him. "Because, you look bad. No, I mean, you look fine, not bad. I mean, except for the horns and the green skin. Not that that's a bad look, for you, that is, I just, well, not that I think you're ugly or anything, just that, uh, you look bad. I mean, you look worried."  
  
A large grin broke out on Gunn's face. Fred's rambling never failed to have that effect on him.  
  
Lorne gave the young woman a small smile. "Don't worry about me, honey. It'll take more than one little kitten to ever make me look unappealing physically." Fred giggled, while Cordy snorted her amusement from the front seat.  
  
A moment later, Wesley turned around in his seat, and stared right into Lorne's eyes. The Englishman's face was grim. The cold, empty look in his eyes made Lorne suddenly very uneasy. "One little kitten?" Wesley repeated softly, slowly. "I think it would be wise of us all not to underestimate our new foe in such a patronizing fashion." His voice grew louder as he fixed his gaze on Gunn. "And furthermore, if anyone here wants to talk about me in the third person, I don't think it would be terribly rude of me to ask you to wait until I'm either not around or at least out of earshot before you do."  
  
"Come on, Wes, chill out," Gunn broke in. The leader of Angel Investigations was making the three of them in the back seat all increasingly nervous. Gunn became aware that Fred was clutching his right elbow tightly with both of her hands. "We were just making conversation back here. And Lorne was just making a little joke to ease the tension. Go easy."  
  
Wesley stared at Gunn in silence for a few more moments, then turned back around, and stared out at the passing traffic once more. Gunn let out a quiet sigh of relief, then gave Fred a reassuring smile. Fred seemed to relax a little. Her grip on his elbow softened, but she didn't let go.  
  
***  
  
Buffy Summers was tired of waiting.  
  
She had been standing outside this crypt for God knew how long now (she had taken her watch off after arriving at home earlier, and hadn't thought to put it back on before she went out again), waiting for Spike to show up. But the vampire remained a no-show.  
  
Letting out a loud and irritated sigh, Buffy finally gave up on expecting Spike to get back anytime soon, and started walking. She wanted to get back home and check on Dawn, since neither Xander or Spike were anywhere to be found, and she wanted to get there and make sure her sister was okay as soon as possible.  
  
Elsewhere, the unlikely trio of Spike, Xander and Faith were heading down Sunnydale's main street, while Giles was looking around in dismay at Xander and Anya's empty apartment, wondering where the engaged couple had disappeared to, but Buffy was aware of neither of these things. All her mind was focused on right now was getting back to Dawn. And the next time she saw Spike and Xander, she was going to have a serious talk with them.  
  
***  
  
Behind the reception counter in the foyer of the Wolfram & Hart building, Rhiannon Martinson looked down at her digital wristwatch as the alarm went off, signalling that the time was exactly 4:30 a.m. Immediately, Rhiannon looked up at the front doors. Sure enough, they were opening, and Lilah Morgan was walking in. "Good morning, Miss Morgan," she greeted the well- groomed lawyer.  
  
Lilah glanced at Rhiannon briefly, and kept on walking, headed in the direction of the elevators. "Miss Martinson." Lilah Morgan was a picture perfect copy of the no-nonsense, coldhearted, high-powered business woman. She was starting early for the fifth morning in a row, and she didn't have time to stop and chat to a lowly receptionist. Almost as if they automatically knew she was there, the elevator doors slid open in front of her, and Lilah didn't have to so much as slow down as she stepped into the elevator.  
  
The doors slid shut again, and Lilah instantly tensed, her calm facade evaporating. She was both nervous and excited about today. For the sole head of Wolfram & Hart's Special Projects division, today was a big day.  
  
The kitten was coming.  
  
T.B.C. 


	11. That's Gonna Leave A Bump

Whiskers Of Fury (11/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, kitkat, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, MattyMatt, Rayven, Seven, Shadowfang, silver, Sweet Kitten, superrmk and Y_slaybelle. You're all so cute when you're heaping me with praise.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 11 - That's Gonna Leave A Bump  
  
***  
  
"I wanna help her. I want ... I wanna become someone."  
  
Whistler looked closely at the vampire with a soul that stood before him, amazement showing on his face. "God, jeez, look at you. She must be prettier than the last Slayer."  
  
Angel looked away from the balance demon, not wanting to admit, either through his voice or his eyes, that the attraction he had felt toward the young girl, the way he had felt drawn to her, was a significant factor in why he had made this decision.  
  
"This isn't gonna be easy," Whistler warned. "The more you live in this world, the more you see how apart from it you really are. And this is dangerous work. Right now, you couldn't go three rounds with a fruit fly."  
  
"I wanna learn from you," Angel said, the determination clear in his voice.  
  
Whistler smiled a little. "Alright."  
  
"But I don't wanna dress like you."  
  
As the balance demon looked at the vampire in surprise, Angel turned, and headed down the sewer tunnel. Whistler started after him. "Again, you're annoying me. You're lucky we need you on our side."  
  
After a few steps, Angel suddenly stopped, and turned back around. He stared past Whistler and back down the alley.  
  
"Now what?" Whistler asked.  
  
Angel was silent for a moment. He squinted as he tried to look closer at whatever he was trying to look at. "I thought I heard something."  
  
"What, like a rat? I know you're hungry, but it can wait."  
  
Angel stared down the tunnel for a moment longer, then turned back and started walking again. Whistler couldn't resist a small chuckle. "You never know what kinda creepy things crawl around down here."  
  
"Must have been a rat," Angel said, not acknowledging Whistler's joke.  
  
It wasn't a rat.  
  
***  
  
This wasn't how Giles had expected to be spending the pre-dawn hours.  
  
Right now, he was standing in the bedroom of Xander and Anya's apartment. The room was empty, as was the rest of the apartment. In fact, the entire building had seemed unnaturally quiet as he entered, even for this early hour.  
  
Giles looked around the room, deep in thought. The sheets on the bed were rumpled, as if they had recently been slept in. The lamp by the chest of drawers was on, and the top drawer was open. A pair of men's pajamas lay on the floor. All these things suggested that wherever Xander and Anya were at the moment, they had been here not long ago. He knew Xander had come straight back here after the party earlier, and Anya had been here the whole night with stomach flu. So where the bloody hell were they?  
  
He was broken from his thoughts when the phone on the bedside table started ringing. Giles looked at it, unsure at first if he should answer it. Then, on impulse, he crossed over to the table and picked the phone up, bringing it up to his ear.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
There was no answer. Just a burst of loud static that thundered into Giles' ear, causing him to wince and drop the phone. He bent down to pick it up, and smacked his head against the edge of the bedside table. He immediately sank to his knees, letting out a loud moan of pain, and clutched his head in his hands, rubbing the area that had made contact with the table and was already starting to swell up.  
  
After a few moments, he picked the phone up from the floor, and hesitantly brought it back to his ear. There was no static now, just a dial tone. Scowling, Giles replaced the phone, and slowly got to his feet. Then he turned and left the room, headed for the front door, still gingerly rubbing his head.  
  
***  
  
Cordy sighed irritably, and tossed the cellphone onto the dashboard once more. "Anything?" Angel asked her, his eyes not leaving the road ahead.  
  
"No," she answered. "I can't hear a thing through this static. I couldn't even tell if it was Xander who answered or not."  
  
"Can't you call somebody else?" Lorne asked Cordy from the back seat.  
  
"No, I don't know anyone else's phone number in Sunnydale."  
  
"Well, then, we'll just have to wait until we get there," Angel said, trying to sound reassuring. He wasn't liking the worried tone that was creeping into Cordy's voice, seemingly growing more dominant with every sentence.  
  
***  
  
Spike was hanging on every word Faith was saying.  
  
"So, I've staked all the vamps, right? And the preacher's so relieved, he starts hugging me. Then all of a sudden, there's cops everywhere, and the next thing we know, we're both being tossed into the slammer."  
  
Unable to help himself, the chipped vampire burst out laughing, his head thrown back as his walk turned into a brief stagger. When he recovered, he looked at Faith again, grinning widely. "And you were naked through it all?"  
  
"The whole time."  
  
On Faith's other side, Xander was also grinning. He remembered this story, and liked that he was hearing it being told a second time. Apart from Spike being here, this dream was definitely starting to get better.  
  
"Now why doesn't Buffy have any stories like that?" Spike was musing.  
  
"What makes you think she doesn't?" Faith quipped in return. She smirked when she noticed that both Spike and Xander were staring wide-eyed at her now. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she asked them, answering the question that was undoubtedly on both their minds.  
  
They strolled down Main Street in silence for a few moments. Faith then turned to Xander. "So, what's a guy like you doing strolling down Main Street at five in the morning, Xander?"  
  
Xander smiled, and shrugged. "Sleepwalking, probably."  
  
***  
  
The front door opened, and in the living room, Dawn quickly jumped up from her seat at the sound. She came out into the hallway to see Buffy letting herself in. "Did you find Xander and Spike?" she asked quickly.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Sorry, Dawn. I don't know where they are. I waited at Spike's crypt for like an hour, but he wasn't around. And I don't know where Xander is either yet." She noticed the stricken look on her little sister's face, and put a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sure they're fine," she said gently.  
  
Dawn relaxed a little. "Yeah."  
  
Buffy turned, and started towards the phone. "I'm gonna try Xander again, see if he ..."  
  
"Buffy, wait a second."  
  
Buffy stopped, and turned back to face her sister. As she did, she saw a man coming out from the living room. Her eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?" she asked him.  
  
Lindsey smiled a little. The two girls that stood before him hadn't become sisters through the most conventional set of circumstances, but the resemblances were uncanny. "Miss Summers." He offered a hand, but Buffy remained standing still, not completing the handshake. He dropped his hand to his side. "I'm Lindsey McDonald."  
  
"That supposed to mean something to me?"  
  
"Not yet, but it will." Buffy was intrigued by the no-nonsense manner in which this man was presenting himself. "I came here because I think you could use my help."  
  
"You know, I doubt that," Buffy returned flatly. She trusted her sister not to have invited in a vampire again, but she still didn't trust this guy. "Use your help with what?"  
  
"In tracking down the kitten you're after."  
  
Buffy and Dawn stared at Lindsey in confusion. Their replies were simultaneous. "Huh?" 


	12. Tricks With Digits

Whiskers Of Fury (12/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, kitkat, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, MattyMatt, Rayven, Seven, Shadowfang, silver, superrmk, Sweet Kitten, and Y_slaybelle. Remind me to make myself the president of each of your fan clubs.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 12 - Tricks With Digits  
  
***  
  
The door to the motel room opened, and Faith and Xander walked in, Faith entering the room first, Xander a couple of steps behind. Xander flicked on the light switch as he shut the door behind him. The room was filled with a dull yellow light. For a moment, a look of horror passed over Xander's face as his mind flashed back to the same dull light that had filled the bedroom of his apartment as he stood looking down at Anya's motionless form lying in their bed, but it vanished quickly enough. That was just a dream. As was this.  
  
Faith, meanwhile, collapsed onto the bed in the center of the room, then lay still, looking up at the ceiling. The bed rocked a little as she hit it, the headboard bumping up against the wall. The dark-haired Slayer's mind was travelling down memory lane as well. Just twenty-four hours ago, she was lying on an uncomfortable mattress in a prison cell, staring up at a ceiling and walls that were covered with graffiti. Twelve hours ago, she was walking out into daylight for the first time in over a year.  
  
"Uh, Faith?" Xander was standing just by the door, leaning up against it, his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Yeah?" Faith responded, not moving.  
  
"Did you wanna get some sleep? 'Cause, you know, I can leave you to it."  
  
Sensing some discomfort in his voice, Faith sat up, and looked at Xander. As she did, she also got her first good look at the room they were in. She froze. When the short guy in the pale brown singlet behind the reception counter told her her room number, she must have missed the connection, but now she discovered that this motel room was the same motel room she and Xander had once slept together in.  
  
The same motel room she had once almost killed him in.  
  
But if Xander had noticed the same thing, he didn't look like it was bothering him. He appeared pretty calm, at least outwardly. Relaxing, Faith smiled at him. "You that anxious to get away from me?"  
  
Xander's head jerked up in surprise. "What? No! I just ... thought you might be tired."  
  
Faith shifted on the bed so she was sitting with her back up against the headboard, the pillows lightly pressing into the bottom of her spine. "Nah, I slept most of the day. And the sun'll be up soon anyway."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Xander said no more. Faith looked at him closely. She had been expecting him to ask her why she wasn't in prison anymore for a while now, but it was as if she had never been in prison at all for all Xander seemed to be thinking of it. Spike hadn't brought up the subject, either. The vampire had excused himself just before she checked in so he could retreat to that safely of the crypt he called home before the morning sun could reduce him to a pile of ashes.  
  
Growing uncomfortable with the silence in the room, Faith spoke again. "Hey, Xander?" He looked over at her. "Why are you here? Don't you have your own place? I mean, why hang out in a place like this if you don't have to, right?" She laughed a little, mostly to calm her own nerves.  
  
Xander looked down at the floor for several seconds, not answering her. When he looked back up, Faith was stunned by the look in his eyes. They seemed flat, empty, devoid of life somehow. His face was grim. He said something in a low voice, but Faith was too far away to hear it.  
  
"What?" she asked him.  
  
"I'm afraid," he repeated, louder this time.  
  
Faith frowned. "Afraid? Afraid of what?"  
  
Xander looked at the floor again. "I don't think I'm dreaming."  
  
***  
  
"Am I dreaming?"  
  
Seated on the couch in the Summers living room, Dawn was looking up at her big sister with a very confused expression.  
  
"Or are you dreaming?" Buffy went on, matching her little sister's puzzled look. Then her gaze shifted to the brown-haired man sitting in the armchair on the other side of the room. "Look, someone here is dreaming, because what you're telling me is ridiculous."  
  
"I know how it sounds," Lindsey said.  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows at him, and folded her arms in a disbelieving gesture. "You do? 'Cause, it sounds like you're trying to tell me that there's an evil kitten out there somewhere roaming the streets with a bad attitude and a thirst for blood."  
  
"Maybe its owner forgot to leave it its fresh milk out today," Dawn offered.  
  
Buffy looked at her sister flatly, not amused.  
  
"That's pretty much how it sounds," Lindsey agreed, getting the blonde Slayer's attention again. "But it's the truth. The files we had on this thing at the law firm I used to ..." He broke off as he saw Buffy's eyes widen, her face turning cold. "What is it?"  
  
"You wanna put that down?" she asked him angrily.  
  
Lindsey was confused, and looked across the room to Dawn. The fifteen-year- old was looking at him with a mixture of anger and fear. No, not at him. As something he suddenly realized he was holding in his hand. In his right hand. Looking down at the object his right hand had picked up, he saw a photo in a gold frame. In the photo, the two sisters were sitting on what had to be the back porch of their home, an older woman sitting between them and on the next step up. All three of them were smiling happily up at him as he looked at their faces. The woman had her arms around both of them.  
  
Putting the picture back onto the small table by his chair, Lindsey looked back up at the two sisters apologetically. "Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to do that, it was ... it's a long story."  
  
Buffy was about to speak again when the phone rang from behind her. "Don't go anywhere," she told Lindsey firmly, glancing at her sister as she did to let her know that she was talking to both of them. Buffy turned, crossed the hall, and picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"B, is that you?"  
  
Buffy instantly recognized the voice on the other end of the line, and her eyes widened. "Faith? How - uh ..."  
  
"Look, B, I really don't have a lot of time for chatting right now. Just listen, OK?" Buffy was silent, and Faith started talking again. "I'm back in town, at the motel, and Xander's here with me."  
  
"Xander?" Buffy began. If she had looked back into the living room at that point, she would have seen both Dawn and Lindsey staring intently at her. "How ..."  
  
"I just bumped into him. Look, it doesn't matter, alright? I didn't know who else to call here. I ... I think we got a problem."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, Xander's sitting in here like a wandering zombie, and he's telling me his girlfriend's dead."  
  
Buffy could only stand there, mouth hanging wide open, the colour draining from her face.  
  
***  
  
"Hi, we'd like a room, please?"  
  
The man behind the reception counter looked up to see two women standing before him. One blonde, one brunette. And both of them really hot. He smiled. They were certainly getting some fine ladies in this morning. Too bad the last one had a guy with her when she checked in. But these two were here with nobody. Unless they were here with each other. His smile grew wider. "No problemo, ladies," he said, getting up from his stool and flicking the TV off. "We got a few rooms still available. Names?"  
  
The blonde woman smiled. "This is Dru, and I'm Darla."  
  
***  
  
Nope, nobody here.  
  
David Nabbit walked back down the stairs and into the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel again. He had been to every floor in the building, looking for Angel. But Angel wasn't here, and neither was anyone else.  
  
Sighing, then shrugging, David started heading for the exit. He stopped when he heard a loud hiss echo through the room from behind him.  
  
T.B.C. 


	13. Kitty At My Foot And I Wanna Touch It

Whiskers Of Fury (13/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, kitkat, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, MattyMatt, Rayven, Seven, Shadowfang, silver, superrmk, Sweet Kitten, TAMZ, and Y_slaybelle. But where's the feedback from people whose names start with "X"? Get 'em over here.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 13 - Kitty At My Foot And I Wanna Touch It  
  
***  
  
Rupert Giles stood on the pavement out in front of Xander and Anya's apartment building, thinking. His right hand was gingerly rubbing his head. He could feel quite a lump where he had bumped it earlier on, and it was still quite a bit sore.  
  
After leaving Xander and Anya's empty apartment, Giles had spent the past hour or so knocking on doors throughout the building, some of them several times over, but getting no answers. Gradually, he had come to the realization that he was evidently the only person in the building. Nobody came to any of the doors to answer his knocks, and he could hear no sounds coming from inside any of the rooms. It was if every resident in the building had abruptly gotten up and vacated the premises, Xander and Anya amongst them. So where the bloody hell were they all? Whatever the reason, Giles didn't like it much.  
  
He wondered where he should go next. He knew that Buffy was out looking for Spike, but if she hadn't found him yet, then that meant Dawn was probably still by herself at the Summers residence, so he figured he should probably head over there and keep an eye on the fifteen-year-old. He could call Willow from there as well if need be.  
  
His mind made up, Giles started down the sidewalk, moving with a quick stride, still rubbing his head. With any luck, Buffy had a spare icepack on standby at her place.  
  
***  
  
Willow had only meant to sit down for a minute, but when she awakened and glanced over at the alarm clock on the desk, she realized that she had been dozing in the chair by the bed for over an hour. 6:15, the clock read. The sun would be up soon.  
  
"Might as well say good morning," Willow murmured, and pushed herself up out of the chair. She walked into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, took out her toothbrush and toothpaste, and came back out. She was about to open the front door and step out into the hall when she heard a familiar noise on the other side of the door.  
  
A familiar meow.  
  
Willow's face lit up, and she quickly opened the door and looked down. And sure enough, there she was.  
  
"Miss Kitty!" Willow exclaimed.  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico sat in the open doorway, looking up at Willow. Willow scooped up the kitten and held her close, a big smile on her face. "Oh, Miss Kitty! Where were you? I was so worried about you! Yes, I was, I was so worried about you!"  
  
She tried to clutch Miss Kitty even closer to her chest in a firm but tender hug, but the kitten started wriggling, not appreciating the gesture. Willow reluctantly released her grip, and Miss Kitty jumped down to the floor, landing at the foot of the bed. She promptly curled up, her head resting on her front paws, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.  
  
"You don't wanna snuggle?" Willow asked, looking down at Miss Kitty, and pouting. But she was incredibly relieved to see her pet again. She was sure that whatever had eaten Amy-rat had eaten Miss Kitty as well, but to see her little kitty safe and well warmed Willow's heart, and brought a smile to her face. And that was something that Willow knew she had needed badly this morning.  
  
Opening the door, about to step out into the hall again, Willow stopped when she heard the sound of moaning behind her. Turning around, she saw Tara stirring on the bed, rolling over onto her back, her hands coming up to her face to rub at her eyes.  
  
"Uh-oh," Willow said quietly to herself. "This is not gonna be pretty."  
  
***  
  
Two people looked at Buffy with matching intent looks when she came back into the living room. She moved slowly, not looking at anyone or anything.  
  
"Were you just talking to Faith?" Dawn asked her big sister, sounding unable to believe it, as Buffy sat down beside her on the couch. Dawn noticed the wide-eyed, vacant, stunned expression on her sister's face. "Buffy?" she said softly.  
  
Buffy looked up at her, and her expression seemed to clear. "Yeah. I ... yeah, that was Faith. She ..." Buffy trailed off, not saying anything more.  
  
"What about Xander?" Dawn asked. "I heard you say his name."  
  
Buffy was silent for a few more moments. When she spoke again, Dawn began to worry when she heard the flat tone in her sister's voice. "They're coming over here. Faith and Xander. Faith's back in town. She ... she's out of prison. I told them to come over here."  
  
"Out of prison?" Dawn wasn't liking this. "Wha... how?"  
  
But Buffy didn't answer this time. She just looked down towards the floor again.  
  
Across the room, Lindsey McDonald was deep in thought. The two girls seemed to have completely forgotten he was even there, but that didn't worry him at this point. Only one thing did at this point.  
  
Faith was out.  
  
And she was here.  
  
Things had just gotten very complicated.  
  
Three people sat in silence in the Summers living room.  
  
Then a knock sounded at the door.  
  
"Hello?" Giles' voice rang out from outside. "Dawn, are you there?"  
  
***  
  
"Welcome to Sunnydale. A Wonderful Place To Live And Grow," Gunn read the sign aloud as Angel's convertible passed it. "You guys didn't tell me this was such a nice, friendly town."  
  
"That's because it's not," Cordelia answered shortly from behind the wheel. "Don't believe everything you read." She had changed places with Angel a few minutes back. Angel now sat in the middle of the front seat, between Cordy and Wesley, a large, thick blanket in his lap. The souled vampire was always reluctant to let somebody else drive his car, but the sun was almost up, and he didn't think he'd be able to steer very well as a big pile of dust in the driver's seat.  
  
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Fred asked from the back seat. "I mean, we only just got here, and it's still dark, but it looks just like a regular, normal small town to me."  
  
"Well, it ain't," Cordy said. "Get used to it."  
  
"So where we gonna crash?" Gunn asked. "We gotta get Angel inside before the sun rises."  
  
"There's a motel not too far from here," Angel answered. "It's not exactly five-star accommodation, but it'll have to do for now. We'll get checked in, then we'll see what's what."  
  
***  
  
"Just tell me I didn't do anything too crazy."  
  
"Okay. You didn't do anything too crazy."  
  
"Willow, this is me. I may be really hungover right now, but I can tell when you're lying better than anyone."  
  
Willow lost her smile. "Okay, well, there may have been some ... tabletop dancing issues, not to mention the classic lampshade on the head trick, but we got you out of there before you could go too over-the-top."  
  
Tara moaned again, but Willow figured this was more a moan of embarrassment rather than head pain. Tara lay on their bed, a wet cloth over her forehead, her eyes shut.  
  
Her eyes opened when she heard the familiar meow. "Is that Miss Kitty?"  
  
"Yeah, she was out most of the night, but she came back just a few minutes ago. I was really worried something had happened to her." Willow hadn't mentioned what was going on yet, with Amy-rat and everything else. She wasn't sure exactly how to work it into the conversation.  
  
"Bring her up here?" Tara asked. "I wanna snuggle."  
  
"I thought that was my job," Willow joked, as she leaned over the edge of the bed to pick up their kitten.  
  
Tara's eyes flew open when she heard Willow let out a sudden squeal of pain, and she shot up in the bed, barely noticing the pain that went through her head as she did. "What happened?" she asked.  
  
Willow held up her hand in front of Tara's face. Tara was shocked to see a deep gash running down the side of Willow's hand, a dark red line of blood trickling down to her wrist. She looked across the room just in time to see Miss Kitty scampering out the open doorway and around the corner.  
  
"She scratched me!" Willow exclaimed.  
  
"Hang on a second, I'll get a bandage. Go and run some water on your hand." Tara got up from the bed, and slowly walked over to the doorway, swaying slightly. She looked up and down the hall, but couldn't see any sign of Miss Kitty.  
  
"What's got into her?" Willow asked.  
  
"I don't know," Tara answered. "She's never done that before."  
  
T.B.C. 


	14. Motel California

Whiskers Of Fury (14/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, kitkat, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, lwbush, MattyMatt, Rayven, Rikki, Seven, Shadowfang, shiny silver grl, superrmk, Sweet Kitten, TAMZ, Undead, and Y_slaybelle.  
  
And a special dedication to two people. One, to none other than Amber Benson herself, for making my millenium and joining my Miss Kitty Fantastico For The Next Big Bad club, and two, to Spikmeister, the maintainer of the MKFftNBB website (where this fic can also be found, incidentally), for making it happen. Anyone interested in knowing about the club can email me.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 14 - Motel California  
  
***  
  
Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan sat on the edge of his bed in the motel room, hands on his knees, watching his roommate closely. The man hadn't spoken a word since the six of them checked in. Outside the window, the first slivers of sunlight were starting to appear on the eastern horizon. Angel would definitely have the curtains drawn in his room by now. He and Fred had taken a room together, and Cordy and Gunn were in the third.  
  
Lorne sighed, stood up, and crossed the room to look out the window. "Talk to me."  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce looked up from the floor. "I'm sorry?"  
  
Lorne turned back around to face Wesley. The boss of Angel Investigations looked up at him from where he sat, his face firm. "Honey, you can play Mr. Grumpy Pants and give us the silent treatment all you want, but your aura's practically screaming about me."  
  
Wesley held Lorne's gaze, not speaking.  
  
Sighing, Lorne crossed to his bed again and sat back down. "Something's bothering you, Wesley. I've been feeling it ever since you came limping down those stairs. So what's the what?"  
  
Wesley frowned. "Like you don't already know."  
  
"Well, I've got a pretty good idea, it's true. But I want to hear it from you."  
  
Wesley looked down at the floor, not speaking. Lorne watched him patiently. The man needed time with this one. It was obvious.  
  
"Not just yet," Wesley said finally, talking softly. He looked back up, and Lorne was a little surprised by the look of fear in the man's eyes. "Soon."  
  
"Fair enough," Lorne replied agreeably. "But I'm gonna hold you to that. I think you've got info we all need to hear."  
  
Wesley's face hardened, and he nodded.  
  
***  
  
"Angel, are you alright?"  
  
Angel was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of Fred's voice, the contemplative look on his face evaporating. "Hmm?"  
  
"Well, you seem kinda distracted." Fred smiled a little. "You're not worried about the kitten we're looking for, are ya?"  
  
Angel paused for a moment before answering.. "No. It's just ... something's off. I can feel it."  
  
Fred frowned. "Off? Like what?"  
  
"Not sure."  
  
***  
  
In the next room, Darla stared intently at Drusilla. "What is it?"  
  
Drusilla smiled. "Daddy's here."  
  
***  
  
Cordelia watched Gunn with an amused smile as he flicked through the channels.  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Doesn't Sunnydale have anything good to watch on TV?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Damn."  
  
***  
  
Xander walked down the sidewalk of Sunnydale's main street, hands in the pockets, head down. A couple of steps behind him, Faith dangled a stake in one hand as she followed him. The sun was coming up, so vampires weren't a worry, but her time in Sunnydale had shown her that vampires are far from the only thing you have to worry about in this town.  
  
They were on their way to Buffy's place, and Faith was really starting to regret coming back here. But, she hadn't had a choice in the matter. The bespectacled Brit in the tweed suit that awaited her as she stepped out through those prison doors and into the open world again had made that more than clear. She was out because she was needed here. Fail to do what was asked of her, and she would find herself back behind those bars before you could say "five by five." So, here she was, back in the town that had pushed her over the edge.  
  
And she was quickly discovering that whatever this dark power that had just risen in this town (at least, that was what she had been told) was exactly, it wasn't beating around the bush. The first familiar face she ran into belonged to Xander, and he had told her about his dead fiance. Sunnydale's newest Big Bad had already made its mark.  
  
But that wasn't Faith's main concern at this point. Seeing Buffy again was her biggest worry. They would be there very soon, so she didn't have a lot of time left to worry about it, but Faith didn't have the slightest idea whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Half of her thought that the sooner she got this over with, the better it would be for both her and Buffy, but the other half was practically screaming at her to turn around and get out of this town, and never come back.  
  
But running wasn't the answer. She had done enough of that for one lifetime.  
  
A few minutes later, the two of them turned a corner, and Faith found herself looking down Buffy's street. She stopped. Xander, who was a few steps behind her now, just kept on walking. Faith took a deep breath, let it out, and started walking again.  
  
***  
  
As Spike paused outside the door to his crypt to finish his cigarette, he realized he was starting to feel worry. Since coming back home from the dorm party, he had become aware of two major problems.  
  
One, Drusilla was back in town. And this time, she had brought Darla with her.  
  
Two, the other Slayer was back.  
  
Spike frowned. He knew the others would not be happy when they heard about this.  
  
Sucking it up, he flicked the cigarette butt away, opened the door, and entered the crypt.  
  
Inside, a young brunette woman sat with her legs crossed on top of his coffin, staring at him intently. "And just where have you been?" she demanded. Spike opened his mouth to answer, but she went on. "We've been worried sick! We were afraid something had happened to you!"  
  
"Don't worry yourself, luv," Spike said, grinning. He was still getting used to this newfound affection from the girl. "Just got held up a little longer than I thought." He strolled over to the coffin, and hopped up onto the lid, sitting across from her. "Ran into a couple of people on the way."  
  
"Like who?" she asked.  
  
"Well, like Droopy, for a start."  
  
"You mean Xander?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
Her eyes widened. "Well? How was he? How did he look?"  
  
"Actually, he seemed pretty normal," the chipped vampire replied, raising his eyebrows. "But he bought it."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure," Spike said, a little patronizingly. "Don't worry about it, luv. Far as he thinks, you're deader than drywood."  
  
"Well, good," Anya said, relaxing. "Everything's going to plan, then."  
  
T.B.C. 


	15. Crystal Ball Wrapped In Flesh

Whiskers Of Fury (15/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, lwbush, MattyMatt, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, Tigerwolf, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, and Y_slaybelle. And a special dedication to wolfguard for inspiring the chapter title.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 15 - Crystal Ball Wrapped In Flesh  
  
***  
  
(Sunnydale, 1997)  
  
"Yes! Yes! Shake, earth! This is a sign! We are in the final days! My time has come! Glory! Glory!"  
  
As the rumblings ceased, Miss Kitty Fantastico sat in a far corner of the underground lair, undetected by any of the vampires that lurked there, her eyes fixed on the Master as he lowered his arms to his sides. The fool. He believed this to be a sign of his ascension? How little he knew. He was but a vampire. A powerful one, granted, but still, just a vampire. And he would claim to know true evil? To have seen its real face?  
  
If he only knew.  
  
As Miss Kitty sat up and took off, headed for the surface, the Master looked over at the Anointed One. "Whaddya think? 5.1?"  
  
***  
  
"Not quite," Spike said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Anya asked him, regarding the vampire quizzically.  
  
"I mean, there's a couple of unexpected arrivals we're going to have deal with before we get started." Spike hopped up onto the lid of his coffin, sitting with his legs hanging over one side, and took out a smoke.  
  
Anya looked worried. "Arrivals? Like who?"  
  
Spike smirked at her. "Like your boyfriend's first fling, for starters."  
  
Anya couldn't believe her ears. "You don't mean Faith?" Spike nodded, still with a faint smirk. "But ... but she's in jail! Serving time for crimes she willfully committed against society!"  
  
"Well, she's not in jail anymore." Spike lit up his smoke, and dropped the lighter back into his pocket. "She's back in town."  
  
The ex-demon was not impressed. "I don't believe this. We're so close now, we can't afford to have two Slayers running around!"  
  
"We'll deal with them," a third voice said.  
  
Spike and Anya both turned to look at the third person in the crypt.  
  
"Anya's right," the young woman said. "Nobody can interfere in this. We're too close to the day." She looked back and forth between the ex-demon and the chipped vampire. "Each of us has suffered great loss in this town. But we won't be in this hellhole much longer. When she whom we serve comes for us, we will be empowered once more, and our losses will be avenged."  
  
***  
  
"Hi, Giles," Dawn said, opening the door and stepping aside to let him in. Giles came inside, and saw Buffy standing at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the railing.  
  
"Oh, Buffy, good," Giles said, closing the door behind him. Dawn moved behind him to look through the glass panes in the door, out onto the street. "Uh, did you find Spike?"  
  
"No. I didn't." Buffy spoke quietly, absently. Giles noticed that her face was pale, and she looked almost frightened, as is wary of something that might spring out at her at any moment.  
  
"Well, uh, I went over to Xander and Anya's building," Giles started, "and I couldn't find any of trace of either of them. It looks like they're both missing. Actually, the whole building appeared virtually empty, if not completely."  
  
"Missing?" Dawn asked, turning back to face Giles. She was starting to worry again, then remembered Faith's phone call earlier. "No, they're not ... I mean, he ..."  
  
"I'm not surprised." Giles turned to face the man who had just spoken, and his eyes widened. "She's leaving her mark already."  
  
Dawn came out from behind Giles, and moved between him and Lindsey. "Uh, Giles, this is Lindsey. He says he's a lawyer from L.A. He ..."  
  
"I know who he is," Giles broke in, cutting Dawn off. "We've met before."  
  
"How've you been, Rupert?" Lindsey asked.  
  
***  
  
Outside, Faith and Xander stepped up onto the front porch.  
  
"Well, here goes nothing," Faith said softly, and lifted her hand to knock on the door.  
  
***  
  
"It's not as simple as that," Spike said, getting up from the coffin and standing. "We're dealing with big evil here. Bigger than anything any of us has ever seen, and we have to be ready for anything. Retaliation from both sides. You don't think Faith being here is a coincidence? She's been sent here to stop us. To stop her."  
  
"Nothing can stop her," Anya responded immediately. "She whom we serve is above all of us. You know, she's invincible."  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe, but that's not gonna stop every superhero and their dog from throwing everything they've got at us in the meantime."  
  
"It doesn't matter," the third member of the trio said. She stared at Spike intently, curiously. "You don't seem convinced that we have found our one true chance for vengeance here, Spike."  
  
"Hey, I'm all for vengeance," Spike insisted. "I've got just as much riding on this as you two. But you've gotta admit, this glorious old town of Sunnyhell is not the place to go trying to exact a little vengeance. Any kind of evil that tries to rule the roost here fails dismally. And with two Slayers here again ..."  
  
"But surely we're not staying here?" Anya asked. "Right?" She looked at the other woman hopefully.  
  
"No, we're not," the other woman answered. "Once she whom we serve arrives, you, Spike and I are gone. There are people waiting for us in the big city. And when we get there, we'll be ushered in by those who serve her as faithfully as we do, and we will have our day. And this town, the town which has seen nothing but failure for all of us, will burn."  
  
She looked at Anya.  
  
"Anya, you were a demon for over a thousand years. And then you came here. And what happened? You were stripped of your powers with barely an afterthought. Those people you called your friends laughed at you behind your back. They mocked you."  
  
She fixed her gaze on Spike.  
  
"Spike, you were one of the most vicious vampires in existence. And then, you came here. And what happened? The Slayer kicked your ass time and time again, and then a bunch of government trained cardboard cutouts decided to perform a little surgery on you. And you became the little vampire that couldn't. And nobody ever treated you with any kind of respect again."  
  
Neither Spike or Anya said anything in reply. They knew every word of it was true.  
  
"And me? I've lived here in this miserable town my whole life. And what did it ever do for me? Not a damn thing. I've spent the last two and a half years trapped in a cage, unable to get out. Cut off from the world. And the one person who had the power to help me didn't lift a finger. But when I get my powers back, she will pay her price. As will they all."  
  
As Spike and Anya watched her in silence, Amy Madison grinned evilly, and folded her arms triumphantly.  
  
"She whom we serve will make it so."  
  
T.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico For The Next Big Bad  
  
http://www.geocities.com/misskittyfantastico2001/ 


	16. Staredown

Whiskers Of Fury (16/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, Tigerwolf, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, & Y_slaybelle. Again, I'd marry all of you if I could. Except for superrmk, who's only interested in me for my mind.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is set roughly two weeks before the start of the story. Because I say it is. So there. You don't like it, write your own damn story.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 16 - Staredown  
  
***  
  
"A dorm party? I don't know, I've kinda gone off those."  
  
"Come on, it'll be fun. You remember fun? That thing where you smile?"  
  
Tara raised her eyebrows. "I've never heard fun described like that before."  
  
Willow grinned. "It's a Xanderism."  
  
"Oh." They paused for a moment by a water fountain, and Willow bent to take a drink. Tara folded her arms, that old gesture that indicated nervousness or worry she barely knew she was making anymore. "It's just ... well, it seems wrong somehow. I mean, it's only been two months since ... Buffy ..."  
  
Willow straightened, and looked sympathetically at Tara. "Yeah," she said quietly. "But we talked about this last night." Willow took Tara's hand, and the two of them started down the hall again, headed for their dorm room. "It still feels really weird, you know, not having her around. She's not here, and the world keeps spinning. But Buffy wouldn't want us moping around. And we haven't had a simple, fun night out in a long time."  
  
Tara had to agree with this. "I suppose so."  
  
"And, we could invite the whole group to come with us," Willow continued, brightening a little. "Xander, Giles, Anya, even Spike if he wants to come. Although we probably shouldn't bring Dawn with us. College parties aren't really her scene."  
  
"Yeah, not like a couple of wild partiers like us," Tara said, attempting a joke. To this day, the blonde Wicca still found herself having to work up the courage to try and say something funny, but she was heartened to hear a chuckle from Willow now.  
  
Reaching their room, Willow pushed the door open, and they walked in. Willow walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain, letting fresh sunlight into the room. As Tara shut the door behind her, she looked across the room, and saw Miss Kitty Fantastico hunched down on the floor at the foot of the bed, staring up at Amy-rat's cage on the desk. She couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. She and Willow had been noticing some differences in behaviour from their kitten lately. Miss Kitty had been their pet for close to a year and a half now, and she surely must have reached adult age despite having barely grown in size at all since the day they first brought her home, but Tara couldn't think of her as anything other than their kitten. The word "cat" just didn't seem to fit such a cute little thing. "Look at this," she told Willow, still smiling.  
  
Turning from the window, Willow looked down at Miss Kitty, and her smile matched Tara's. "Miss Kitty!" she scolded playfully. "What did we tell you about stalking Amy? You're probably scaring her half to death."  
  
But Miss Kitty showed no sign of having heard Willow's voice. She continued to stare up at Amy-rat, not moving a muscle. And it was then that Tara noticed something odd. Amy-rat was staring right back at the kitten, hunched down on the floor of the cage, also not moving. It was as if she was mimicking Miss Kitty's stance completely, and the two of them were engaged in a tense staring contest. The two Wiccas had walked into the room to find Miss Kitty staring up at that cage several times these past few weeks, but normally when it happened, Amy-rat was scurrying back and forth under Miss Kitty's keen gaze as if she was being chased around the cage by half a dozen invisible scorpions. But not today. If anything, Amy-rat was almost statue-like in her frozen position.  
  
Tara was opening her mouth to comment on this when Willow bent down and scooped Miss Kitty up from the floor. Tara kept her eyes on Amy-rat in the meantime, and as Willow snuggled their kitten up against her shoulder, Amy- rat sprang back into life, moving about the cage as she often did, her long tail trailing behind her like a string of tin cans tied to the back of a wedding car turning a hard corner.  
  
***  
  
Lindsey McDonald pulled over in front of the Magic Box, and killed the ignition. He looked out his window at the store for a moment, then got out of the pickup. A couple of teenagers walked by, and chuckled as their eyes happened on Lindsey's battered and dusty truck, but Lindsey paid them no mind. He walked up to the front door of the Magic Box, shielding his eyes against the reflection of the early afternoon sun in the glass with one hand, and pushed it open. Above his head, a small bell jingled.  
  
***  
  
Inside, Giles was just coming up from the basement, carrying a cardboard box full of mandrake root and assorted herbs, and Anya was at the counter, serving a middle-aged woman who was buying a crystal ball for her teenage daughter's birthday. "She's just crazy about the black arts," the woman explained as Anya wrapped the ball.  
  
As Lindsey walked in, the woman took her purchase from Anya and left, smiling and nodding at him as she passed him on her way out. Lindsey smiled politely back at the woman, then approached the counter.  
  
Anya had not yet noticed Lindsey's presence, having turned to Giles as he joined her behind the counter. "Can I go on my lunch break yet?" she was asking him. "You've been working me like a slave all morning."  
  
"Fine," Giles said, trying to sound annoyed and boss-like, but he was happy for the opportunity to get the ex-demon out of his hair for a while. The first couple of hours after midday were normally a slow period in the shop, and Anya had been in a cranky mood all morning, having woken up that morning feeling slightly ill, and having trouble adjusting to the feeling. Earlier she claimed she was feeling the first symptom of stomach flu. Giles figured she was just being paranoid and overreacting.  
  
Anya turned to leave, and saw Lindsey standing on the other side of the counter. "I'm on my lunch break." She pointed at Giles. "He'll serve you." With that, she walked out of the shop, picking up her coat and putting it on along the way. The bell jingled as she opened the door and left.  
  
Giles turned to Lindsey, and smiled at him. "Good afternoon. Welcome to the Magic Box. What can I interest you in? Uh, mandrake root?" he asked, holding up a packet.  
  
"No, actually, I'm not interested in buying anything," Lindsey answered.  
  
"Oh, yes?" Giles asked, dropping the mandrake root back into the box.  
  
"I was hoping to talk to you, Mr. Giles."  
  
Giles was instantly wary. "How do you know who I am?"  
  
"I know a lot about you," Lindsey said. "I know you used to be a Watcher." Giles looked surprised. "And I know you haven't been a Watcher since your Slayer, Buffy Summers, died in May of this year."  
  
Giles whipped off his glasses, and set them down on the counter. He walked around from behind the counter, stopping and standing right in front of Lindsey. He stood almost a head taller than Lindsey, and looked down at him coldly as he spoke, his voice quiet and full of venom. "Who are you, and what the hell do you want?"  
  
Lindsey backed up a step, and held up his hands. He didn't want to appear timid and spineless, but he knew a fair amount about Rupert Giles' younger days, and what the man was capable of if you crossed him. "Relax, Mr. Giles. I'm here to help you."  
  
Lindsey paused for a moment to gauge the Brit's reaction to this. Giles took a deep breath, and appeared to relax a little, but never took his eyes off of Lindsey. "I'm listening," he said simply, not sounding convinced as yet of Lindsey's genuineness.  
  
Now it was Lindsey's turn to relax. "My name is Lindsey McDonald, and until recently, I was employed at Wolfram & Hart. It's a law firm in Los Angeles."  
  
"I've heard of it," Giles said.  
  
"All good things, I hope," Lindsey joked, smiling a little.  
  
"Not really."  
  
Lindsey's smile vanished. "Anyway," he said, getting back to business. "You may be familiar enough with Wolfram & Hart to know that the people there deal in matters that are not quite of the norm - supernatural, otherworldly, you can pick your adjective - as I did when I was employed there. As you yourself did as a Watcher. But some of us at the firm also had a fair knowledge of revivification rituals. And that's why I'm here. I want to help you."  
  
Giles stood silently for a moment, his eyes widening. Lindsey could tell from the look on the man's face that he was getting the picture pretty clearly. "You don't mean ..." Giles began.  
  
Lindsey nodded at him. "I can help you get your Slayer back."  
  
T.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico For The Next Big Bad  
  
http://www.geocities.com/misskittyfantastico2001/ 


	17. Memory Lane

Whiskers Of Fury (17/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, Shadowz, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, & Y_slaybelle. Love you guys. Group hug!  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 17 - Memory Lane  
  
***  
  
The motel room door opened, and Angel came out, walking with purpose. As he walked, he absently raised an arm to shield his face from the morning sunlight, but he wasn't incredibly bothered by it, as he only expected to be outside for a few seconds. Behind him, Fred appeared in the open doorway, watching Angel nervously. The next door down from her opened as well, and Wesley and Gunn stepped out, Cordelia just behind them.  
  
A few short strides brought the souled vampire to the door of the next room along. Angel figured he would have to burst through a locked door to get inside, but when he tried the knob, it turned easily under his hand. He pushed the door open forcibly, and stepped into the room.  
  
There was no one inside.  
  
As Angel stood in the room, looking around, Wesley appeared in the open doorway behind him. "Angel, is everything alright?"  
  
Angel looked back at Wesley. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Guess it's nothing."  
  
Wesley bent forward, looking into the room curiously. "What exactly were you expecting to find in here?" he asked the vampire.  
  
"Not sure," Angel replied. "I just thought I ..." He trailed off, and shook his head. He started walking back to the door, and Wesley stepped back to allow him room. Angel reached the doorway, then stopped, staying out of the sunlight.  
  
Gunn came up beside Wesley, looking at Angel strangely. "What's up?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," Angel told him. "What's going on?"  
  
"Gunn and I thought we'd head into town," Wesley explained. "Have a look around, and see if we can spot anything that looks suspicious."  
  
"Like a kitten jumping out at people and slicing 'em up," Gunn added.  
  
"That's a good idea," Angel told them. "Just ... be careful. Guess I'll stay inside for now, so I won't burn up."  
  
"I'm coming with you," Cordelia said from behind them.  
  
Wesley and Gunn turned to look at her. "I wouldn't recommend it," Wesley told her. "Until we can ascertain exactly how safe or unsafe it is to be out in the open, I think the mjaority of us should ..."  
  
"Save it, Wes," Cordy rode in, cutting him off. "I'm coming with you." She looked at Angel for a moment, then back at Wesley. When she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its edge. "I want to see Sunnydale again. There'll be a lot of memories brought back for me while we're here, and I might as well deal with them sooner than later. What the hell."  
  
Wesley nodded, understanding. He had spent only a few short months in this town, but even he was anxious to take another look around. It had been like a vapour had settled over him as soon as they crossed over the town limits, filling him with a mixture of excitement and unease. He could only guess at the frame of mind Cordy had to be in at the moment. "OK, the three of us'll head out. But we'll be back as soon as we can."  
  
Wesley's eyes happened on Fred as he finished speaking, and she gave him a small smile. "How're you feeling?" she asked him, a little hesitantly.  
  
Wesley looked at Fred for a moment, not getting the question. Then he looked down at his foot, then back up at her. "Oh. Better," he told her. "Not so painful." He paused. "Sorry if I was a bit harsh before."  
  
Fred's smile grew a little. "Oh, that's alright," she said. "I should have been more careful instead of sneaking up on you like that. I mean, I know what it's like to drop a heavy thing on your foot and feel the pain for ages afterwards. There was this one time in Pylea, I was carrying a bunch of sticks and twigs and things, and I stepped on a rock as I came into my cave, and I tripped, and they all fell on my feet, and I could barely walk for an hour afterwards, and it was really painful, and ..." She trailed off, looking embarrassed. "... and I'm just wasting everybody's time, aren't I? There's an evil kitten in town, and here I am rambling on about twigs. I'll be quiet now." Fred's head dropped, and she looked down at the ground. Gunn grinned, and Wesley smiled a little at her when she looked back up.  
  
"And on that note, I say we get movin'," Cordelia said.  
  
"Let's go," Gunn agreed, as he, Cordy and Wesley started walking. Angel quickly jogged back into his and Fred's room, and closed the door behind them. "I hope we find this kitty," Gunn continued. "I been waitin' to try out my new axe."  
  
As the three of them walked away, another door opened, and Lorne popped his head out. "Bring me back a jelly donut?" he called after them.  
  
***  
  
On the front porch outside the Summers house, Faith and Xander stood outside the door. Faith's right arm was raised, ready to knock, but as Xander watched, the dark-haired Slayer's arm dropped, slapping against the side of her body.  
  
Faith's mind had taken her back to the last time she had stood in this spot. She remembered the night all too well. She had just woken from her coma, and had come by to pay Buffy's mom a little 'visit'. Joyce had opened the door, and Faith had greeted her with a fist. Inside, she was panicking. She had been worried about meeting Buffy again, but now she was wondering what would happen if the first face she saw here belonged to Joyce?  
  
"Aren't you gonna knock?" Xander asked her.  
  
Faith was surprised to hear Xander's voice. It was the first time he had spoken since they left the motel. "In a minute," she said, standing still.  
  
***  
  
Inside the house, Dawn was looking up at the two men in front of her with a curious expression. "You've met?" she asked them. "When?"  
  
Giles continued to look at Lindsey. "He gave me the spell," he said after a moment.  
  
"The spell?" Buffy asked him.  
  
Giles looked down at his Slayer, who now sat on the bottom step, her hands in her lap. "The one that brought you back," he replied.  
  
Buffy's eyes widened, and she looked at Lindsey, getting to her feet. "He's the one who came to you at the shop?" she asked Giles. He nodded.  
  
"I take it everything worked fine?" Lindsey asked him.  
  
As Giles was opening his mouth to answer, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Dawn said quickly, rushing over to answer it.  
  
***  
  
Faith took a deep breath as the door opened. And as it turned out, the face she saw belonged to neither Buffy or Joyce. It was the littlest Summers.  
  
Dawn's eyes met Faith's, and a scowl quickly came over the teen's face. She then saw Xander, and her eyes lit up. "Xander!" she exclaimed. "We thought you were ..."  
  
Xander didn't reply. Looking over Dawn's shoulder, Faith could see Buffy and Giles standing in the foyer, staring at her. And someone else standing behind Giles, but Giles was in the way, and Faith couldn't see the man's face. Xander stepped into the house, and gave Dawn a small smile as he passed her.  
  
Dawn looked back at Faith, and her scowl returned. "Are you gonna push me out of your way again like last time?" she asked coldly.  
  
Faith's eyes widened. Damn. She had totally forgotten about that.  
  
As Xander walked over to where Buffy and Giles were standing, Giles moved aside to give the young man room, and Faith now could see the man who had been standing behind him. Her eyes widened even further as she recognized the face staring back at her.  
  
Of all the people Faith had been worried about seeing again over the past few hours, this guy certainly hadn't been one of them. Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze.  
  
Lindsey looked at Faith, his eyes staring intently into her own. Her mind working quickly, Faith took in the situation, and did the only thing she coud think to do.  
  
She turned, and bolted down the porch steps, across the front garden, and off down the street.  
  
T.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico For The Next Big Bad  
  
http://www.misskittyfantastico.co.uk/ 


	18. Daylight

Whiskers Of Fury (18/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, Shadowz, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, and Y_slaybelle. (You guys seeing anyone?)  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: OK, so I'm going to try and put out a new chapter every week now. Hopefully, this will see my updating speed pick up a little again. It's kinda hard to tell, though. Organizing a schedule and sticking to it isn't one of my best things. Still, all of your incredible feedback keeps me motivated.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 18 - Daylight  
  
***  
  
The sun was starting to climb higher above the town, and Sunnydale was awakening for a new day.  
  
Along Main Street, cars were starting to appear, the traffic gradually getting heavier, and shop doors were being unlocked, shop owners preparing to open for another day of business. Among the buildings that dotted both sides of the street, only the magic shop stood unattended, unopened. On the other side of the alley that ran between the magc shop and the butcher shop, Darren Reardon, the manager, was letting himself in, closing the door behind him as he entered. Darren usually went in through the back door, but the nearby alley he used to get around to the back entrance every morning was cordoned off with bright yellow police tape, stamped "DO NOT CROSS" in bold, capitalized black letters.  
  
About ten feet away, a pair of paramedics loaded a stretcher up into the back of an ambulance. A small crowd - probably only half a dozen people or so; it was still pretty early in the day - watched them, not speaking. A motionless human form could be seen under the sheet that covered the stretcher. As the paramedics climbed into the back of the ambulance and shut the doors, and the engine started revving, a couple of onlookers spoke to each other in hushed tones. As the ambulance began to pull away, headed in the direction of Sunnydale Memorial, the small group began to break up, the people moving off in different directions. One woman took a lingering look down the alley before leaving, but there was nothing to be seen down there anymore. A person with exceptionally keen eyesight may have been able to spot small splashes of blood in two or three places, but this woman was in her mid-forties, and wore thick glasses. She, too, now walked away, leaving the area empty.  
  
A few blocks farther up the street, a trio of people came around a corner, moving slowly. A woman, flanked by two men, each of them silent, looking around at the buildings and the people that they passed.  
  
Cordelia Chase was still digesting the fact that she was back in Sunnydale. She had almost caught herself thinking of the town as her home a few minutes earlier, but she had been gone for too long a time now for it to be that. Sunnydale wasn't her home anymore. She had been born here in Sunnydale, had lived through her childhood years, and the majority of her teen years, here in Sunnydale, but she hadn't really grown up here. At least, it didn't seem that way to her. Most of her growing up had been done in the few very short - and yet very long - years since leaving Sunnydale. Still, there were so many memories here for her. Memories of a person she barely recognized anymore, of a life she barely remembered she had.  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was having no similar inner monologue, but he too found himself deep in thought as the three of them walked through the town's center. He hadn't been here nearly long enough to build up the emotional connection with this town that Cordy possessed, but he had his fair share of memories also. And he, too, found himself comparing the person he was when he was in Sunnydale to the person he had become since leaving, and found himself fascinated by the differences between the two versions of himself, almost as if they were two entirely seperate entities. Certainly, the people in this town that knew him would have difficulty recognizing the man now. Wesley felt sure that he would be seeing all of those people again, perhaps very soon.  
  
Charles Gunn had never been to Sunnydale before, but he knew there was some weird-ass shit going on here.  
  
"So ..." Gunn said contemplatively, feeling a need to break the silence. "Anyone see a kitten yet?"  
  
"Nope," Cordelia answered shortly.  
  
"Perhap we should ask some of the locals," Wesley offered.  
  
"Oh, right," Gunn responded, a little sarcasm creeping into his voice. "That'll work. 'Excuse me, ma'am, we're lookin' for a kitten that's been goin' around killin' people. You think you seen it? You got a kitten yourself, ma'am? It gettin' violent on ya at all?'"  
  
Wesley looked at Gunn with annoyance. "Okay then, we'll just wait here for a kitten to come to us. With any luck, it'll kill us all, and then we'll know we've found it."  
  
Now it was Gunn's turn to look annoyed. "Wesley ..."  
  
"Guys, hold up."  
  
The two men turned to look at Cordelia. The three of them had all stopped walking. "What is it?" Wesley asked her.  
  
"Down there." Cordy's arm pointed down the street.  
  
About thirty feet from where they stood, the three of them could just make out the yellow police tape barring access to the alley. Wesley and Gunn looked at each other, then simultaneously started off again, heading for the alley. Cordelia quickly followed after them, taking a quick look around her as she jogged to catch up.  
  
***  
  
So far, none of the Main Street pedestrians had noticed that the butcher shop had yet to open.  
  
As Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia passed by the front of the shop outside, inside the building, Drusilla dropped Darren Reardon's lifeless body to the floor, and licked her lips.  
  
"You didn't save me any, Dru."  
  
Drusilla turned, and smiled. "You should have brought your own, grandmummy."  
  
"I did."  
  
Darla emerged from the back area, holding the slumped and unconscious body of a teenage girl in front of her. The girl's clothing suggested she was the store cleaner. Her nametag was splashed with blood. Blood which ran from two neat punctures in her neck.  
  
"But she was incredibly skinny," Darla added. "Hardly enough to feed a small child, let alone me."  
  
"Daddy will be cross when he sees what you've done," Drusilla scolded playfully, pointing a finger at Darla.  
  
Darla's expression turned angry. "'Daddy' won't do a thing. If he gets in our way, we kill him." She dropped the young girl's body, and sighed. "What the hell is he doing here, anyway? Can't I go anywhere in the world without having to deal with Angel and his disgusting soul?" She spat this last word out, her voice dripping with venom.  
  
Drusilla suddenly drew in a quick, sharp breath, turning on her feet toward the front door. Her eyes widened, and she began to smile.  
  
"What is it?" Darla asked her. She had seen this from Dru a hundred times over. Sometimes it felt like a million.  
  
"Visitors," Dru chanted. "Right outside the door."  
  
Darla rolled her eyes. "They're just pedestrians, Dru. They're just cattle."  
  
"Daddy's friends ..."  
  
Darla was turning to leave through the back entrance, but these two words stunned her. She spun back around, and stormed over to Drusilla. "What?" she demanded.  
  
"They're here," Drusilla said, still in that lilting, chanting voice. "They came with Angel." She paused, swaying on her feet. "They're looking for a naughty kitty!" she finished decisively. "She will have no treats with her meal today."  
  
Darla rolled her eyes again. That was Drusilla for you. For every useful piece of information her warped mind gave you, there was always an equal serving of gibberish. She thought for a moment. "So. Angel's sidekicks are here, are they?"  
  
"Shall I invite them in, grandmummy?" Dru's smirk was both incredibly shy, and incredibly devious.  
  
Darla started to smile. The smile soon gave way to a wide grin. Her eyes glinted with evil intent. "Yeah. Why not?"  
  
.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico for the next Big Bad  
  
http://www.misskittyfantastico.co.uk/ 


	19. Time For Breakfast

Whiskers Of Fury (19/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Christopher Marlowe, cile, cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, Shadowz, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, and Y_slaybelle. At this point, a group hug would smother me.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 19 - Time For Breakfast  
  
***  
  
"I admit, I'm beginning to understand why you came to me with the resurrection spell."  
  
Rupert Giles and Lindsey McDonald were sitting down in chairs on opposite sides of the coffee table in the Summers living room. Lindsey looked up at Giles as he spoke. They were alone in the room. Dawn had gone back upstairs, taking Xander with her.  
  
Buffy had insisted on going out and following Faith before she could get far.  
  
"I realize you probably have your own agenda," Giles went on, looking the ex-Wolfram & Hart lawyer square in the eye, his expression firm. "But if what you've just told me is accurate, I think I've just found one more reason to be grateful that Buffy is back again."  
  
"It's accurate," Lindsey assured him. "All the signs point to it. Wolfram & Hart have known about this for years. This kitten is unlike anything your Slayer has ever faced, of that I'm confident. But I think you'll agree, we're a much better chance of surviving through this with her around."  
  
Giles nodded silently, unable to disagree.  
  
But Lindsey's thoughts were still centered on Faith. He hadn't been given a lot of time to prepare for their meeting again, but it definitely hadn't gone the way he had wanted. Hopefully, the other Slayer would find her soon, and bring her back here, so he could get this whole thing straightened out, and find out just how Faith had gotten out of prison.  
  
Not to mention why.  
  
***  
  
Upstairs, Dawn came back into her room, carrying a glass of water in one hand. Xander still sat on the edge of her bed, head hung, legs together, hands folded lazily in his lap, staring at the floor. He looked up when Dawn came in, smiled at her, and took the glass as she offered it.  
  
"Crazy start to the day, huh?" Dawn asked him, sitting down beside him on the bed. "How are you feeling?" It was about the only thing she could think of to say to him at the moment.  
  
Xander took a sip of water, then looked at Dawn. "I'm okay," he said quietly. He looked back down at the floor.  
  
Dawn had been worried about Xander since the moment he came in the house earlier. The slump of his shoulders, and the troubled look on his face, suggested pretty clearly to her that something wasn't right. She had excused the two of them after Faith had turned on the front doorstep and taken off, and they had come up here. Dawn had asked him if he was thirsty, but he hadn't answered her, so she went back down to the kitchen anyway, and filled a glass with water from the tap. He had only taken one sip from the glass so far, and she suspected he had only done it for her benefit. "No, you're not," she told him in response.  
  
Xander looked back up at her, surprised.  
  
"Something's wrong with you, Xander," she went on, deciding to be upfront with him. She imagined it was what he would do in the same situation. "And unless you tell somebody what it is, it's only going to make you feel worse than you already do the longer you leave it."  
  
Later that day, when his head was a little clearer, Xander would find himself able to wonder exactly when Dawn had gotten so insightful. But for now, his brain was on autopilot.  
  
"Anya's dead."  
  
That was the last thing Dawn had been expecting to hear. The colour drained from her face, and she felt as if she had had her breath stolen from her. "What?" she asked in shock, her voice now barely above a whisper.  
  
"Something killed her." The flat, emotionless tone of Xander's voice scared the fifteen-year-old even more. "I came home tonight, and there she was. Lying -" His voice caught for a moment, choking in his throat. His eyes started to tear up. "Lying in our bed ... not moving ... like ... like she ..."  
  
Xander broke down, unable to finish what he was saying. His face dropped into his hands, his shoulders sagged, and he started sobbing uncontrollably. Everything that had been festering inside him these past few hours suddenly came rushing to the surface, all at once.  
  
Dawn felt herself almost starting to get teary as well, but something occured to her at that point. A thought that popped into her head from totally out of nowhere. Something that Giles had said earlier ...  
  
"That's where she was when you left?" she asked Xander. Still crying, still with his hands hiding the tears that ran down his face, Xander nodded.  
  
Dots were joining in Dawn's mind now. Thoughts were connecting to each other. Xander had found Anya lying motionless in his bed, and she didn't have any reason to think he was lying about that. And Anya had still been there when Xander left. But Giles had been to Xander and Anya's place since then.  
  
And Giles had said the whole building was empty.  
  
***  
  
Several houses up from B's place, Faith was standing in a front garden, bent at the waist, her hands on her knees, breathing a little heavy. Her panicked run hadn't taken her very far before her body had stopped running, just as sudden as it had started. She realized now that she was glad about that. She already knew she hadn't come back to this town just to start running away again.  
  
She turned around, ready to start walking back down the street to the Summers house, but received a shock when she found herself looking right into an angry face, only inches away from hers.  
  
"Hello, Faith," Buffy said coldly.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Wes, look at this."  
  
Wesley turned to look at Gunn, who was pointing down at the ground. Looking down there, he saw what Gunn had already spotted, a dark splash of blood near the wall.  
  
The two of them were investigating the crime scene they had just happened upon, and it looked to the ex-Watcher like Gunn had just spotted the first clue. At the top of the alley, Cordelia stood on the legal side of the bright yellow police tape, watching them, her back to the street.  
  
"This doesn't look good," Wesley said flatly. As soon as the three of them had reached the crime scene, Cordy had told them that this was the alley from her vision, the alley the man had been attacked by the kitten in. And evidently, they had arrived far too late to save him. Considering there was nobody else at the crime scene but them, the attack had most likely happened hours ago, quite possibly at the exact same time Cordy had seen it in her vision.  
  
Which wasn't of much help to them, it turned out.  
  
It was typical of the Powers at times. Obviously, they hadn't been sent here to save the man from Cordelia's vision. Maybe they were here to prevent anyone else from being killed by the kitten from Cordelia's vision.  
  
"So, which one of us has a sick relative at Sunnydale Memorial?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Would you go?" Wesley asked him. "I'd like to stay here a little longer and investigate the crime scene. Once I'm finished, Cordy and I will go back to the motel and reconvene with the rest of the group, so you might as well just head back there later. And tell Cordelia not to go anywhere, alright?"  
  
Gunn nodded. "I'm on it." He clapped Wesley on the shoulder, and started back up the alley.  
  
Once Gunn was gone, Wesley squatted down to take a closer look at the bloodstain. "So," he murmured softly. "You're back again."  
  
***  
  
Cordelia stared expectantly at Gunn as he ducked back under the police tape, joining her again on the sidewalk. "Well?" she asked him impatiently.  
  
"Looks like we got here too late to save this guy," Gunn answered. "I'm gonna head up to the hospital and see what I can find out about him, do the sick relative thing. Wesley wanted you to stay here."  
  
Cordelia nodded, not happy to hear this news, but not surprised by it. She had never expected they would arrive in time to save the guy she saw in her vision, instead, like Wesley, guessing they were there to stop the kitten she saw in her vision, before it could hurt anyone else. "Be careful," she told Gunn.  
  
Gunn nodded, and smiled at her. "Always do." On a happier day, Cordelia Chase would have felt inclined to respond to that with a smart-aleck comment. But not today. Gunn turned the other way, and started walking up the street, heading away from her, leaving her alone, and more worried than ever.  
  
As she continued to watch Gunn as he headed up the street, Cordelia didn't hear the front door of the butcher shop swinging open behind her. But she did feel the hands that came down on her shoulders, pulling her into the building before she could even let out a shout for help.  
  
Oblivious to this, Gunn continued to walk away, not hearing the sound of the slamming door behind him.  
  
Nor did he notice Miss Kitty Fantastico come out of an alley across the street, and start trotting after him from behind.  
  
***  
  
Inside the butcher shop, Cordelia's eyes opened wide in terror at the sight of Drusilla's vamped-out face, right in front of her. The vampire held her by the forearms with hands that were smoking from their brief exposure to the sunlight outside, and she was looking hungrily at Cordelia.  
  
Behind Drusilla's left shoulder, Cordy caught sight of Darla standing a few feet away from them, and her eyes grew even wider. "Nice to see you again, little girl," the blonde vampire greeted her, smiling pleasantly. "I don't think you saw us coming, did you?"  
  
Before Cordelia could open her mouth to reply, Drusilla grabbed the back of her neck tightly with one hand, and clamped her other hand over Cordy's mouth just as tightly, holding it shut. As she stood helplessly, terrified, unable to cry out, Drusilla darted her head forward with incredible speed, and sank her fangs into Cordelia's throat.  
  
T.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico for the next Big Bad  
  
http://www.misskittyfantastico.co.uk/ 


	20. Reality

Whiskers Of Fury (20/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Chris Marlowe, cile, cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, Echoes of the Mind, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, shadowz, shiny silver grl, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead, and Y_slaybelle.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That last chapter has to be the longest I've written for this story so far. So if any future chapters look like scrawny little weaklings in comparison, don't say I didn't warn you.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 20 - Reality  
  
***  
  
"Hey, B, you're looking -"  
  
That was all Faith was able to say before a hard right cross from Buffy belted across her face, surprising her, and knocking her down on her ass. Faith looked up at Buffy, feeling the cool morning grass beneath her, a little unsure of how to react. The blonde Slayer took a step closer, now standing right over her, looking down at her, her face a picture of cold anger.  
  
"Faith, I don't care why you're so suddenly out from behind bars, or how rehabilitated you might think you are, but you've got exactly three seconds to start explaining what the hell you're doing here before I start kicking your ass."  
  
Faith briefly considered a snappy comeback, but the cold, no-nonsense manner in which Buffy was speaking suggested this was no time for games. "Hey, gimme a break, alright?"  
  
"One."  
  
"Alright, already. Let an ex-con stand up first." Faith held a hand out to ward Buffy off as she got back to her feet, keeping her eyes on her fellow Slayer. Buffy was in typical Slayer fighting stance, her fists held up in front of her, tense, ready to spring into action in an instant. Now standing again, Faith brushed herself off, and dropped her arm. "Look, I didn't come looking for a fight," she said, hoping the calm tone of her voice would settle Buffy's nerves a little, as well as her own.  
  
Buffy relaxed her stance a little, her arms dropping to her sides, but her body language suggested she was still half expecting Faith to try something. "Okay, so why are you here? I would have thought Sunnydale was the last place you'd ever even think about coming back to."  
  
"Ordinarily, yeah," Faith agreed. "But I didn't have a lotta choice on this one, B. I'm needed here."  
  
"You're needed here?" Buffy couldn't hide the disbelief in her voice. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Kinda doubt that."  
  
Now it was Faith's turn to smile. "Doubt all you want, but it's true. I don't know what I'm here for exactly, but I know it's big. Too big for one of us to handle on our own, I'm guessing."  
  
Buffy was quiet for a few moments, taking this in. She looked Faith over a little more closely. Her hair was longer than she remembered. No dark lipstick or nail polish. No leather anywhere in the outfit, just a simple pair of bluejeans and a black T-shirt. "So how'd you get out?" she asked Faith finally.  
  
"Council pulled a few strings," the dark-haired Slayer answered simply. "One of their tweed-clad stooges came for me, and out I went."  
  
Buffy was surprised by this answer. "Why?"  
  
"Not sure, really. The guy didn't go into the specifics of it. He said a lot without sayin' much. You know what those Watcher types are like."  
  
Buffy nodded, forced to agree. "So that's it?" she asked. "That's the whole story."  
  
Faith shrugged. "Pretty much."  
  
Deciding to change the subject, Buffy took a step back, folding her arms in front of her. "So why'd you take off back there?"  
  
"Oh, that." Faith dropped her eyes from Buffy's gaze for a moment, a little embarrassment showing in her demeanor. "Saw an old friend I wasn't happy to see again. Panicked for a few seconds. And I really didn't expect to see him hanging at your joint, B. What's up with that?"  
  
Buffy frowned. "Who, that lawyer guy? How do you know who he is?"  
  
"Had a brush with him in LA. It's kind of a long story."  
  
Buffy paused for a moment, looking at Faith with curiousity. "Let me see if I've got all this straight. You're out of prison because the Council got you out, and you're in Sunnydale because of something big."  
  
"Big evil, Buffy. Same old, same old with this town. You know that much."  
  
Buffy was startled a little. She couldn't remember the last time Faith had called her by her actual name. "But you don't know what the big evil is."  
  
Faith spread her arms. "Nope." She let her arms drop back to her sides, and smirked a little. "I figured I'd find out once I got here." Her expression turned serious. "But it's something bad, B. And we need to put a stop to it before it hurts anybody."  
  
***  
  
Wesley stood back up, putting the blood sample he had just taken into his jacket pocket. Turning to start walking back up the alley and onto the street, he was surprised to see no sign of Cordelia by the roadside. Walking a little further, he was expecting her to be just around the corner, perhaps not wanting to see any more of the crime scene than she had to, given the gruesome detail of her earlier vision, but when he reached the top of the alley and ducked under the police tape, he looked both up and down the street, and couldn't see Cordy at all. Maybe she had gone along with Gunn to the hospital. Wesley remembered the way she had insisted on coming into town with the two of them earlier, and realized that asking Cordelia Chase to stay somewhere she didn't want to be was pretty pointless if her mind was already made up on being somewhere else.  
  
"Guess I'm going back to the motel on my own, then," he said to himself, and started walking.  
  
No sooner had he gotten only a couple of steps, when the door to the butcher shop slammed open in front of him. Wesley jumped, startled, then recovered after a moment, his eyes locked on the doorway.  
  
Taking a couple of cautious steps closer, he began to make out the silhouette of someone standing just inside the shop, avoiding the sunlight streaming in from outside. His eyes widened when he recognized the figure. He had never seen her in person before, only in an old book, but there was no mistaking who it was.  
  
Drusilla.  
  
Wesley's hand dove into his jacket pocket, thankful to find the wooden stake still there from the vampire gang he and Gunn had taken out two nights previous back in LA. He kept inching towards the doorway, careful not to get too close.  
  
Beside Drusilla, a familiar blonde woman appeared, vamped out, and smiling at him.  
  
Darla.  
  
Wesley stopped moving.  
  
"The rats tremble," Drusilla whispered. "Blood is spilling."  
  
The lights hadn't been turned on inside the building, and Wesley couldn't make out much of what was behind the two vampires. For a moment, he thought he saw a figure lying on the floor, but then Darla spoke, capturing the ex- Watcher's full attention.  
  
"Wesley," the blonde vampire said, still grinning. "It's been a while. Why don't you come on in and greet an old friend properly, like a true gentleman would?" Beside her, Drusilla, also in vamp face, licked her lips hungrily.  
  
"I have a better idea," Wesley instantly responded. "Why don't you come out here? Oh, wait. You can't, can you?" Sizing up the situation, he didn't think it wise to get within arms reach of the two vampires. Where he stood at the moment, they couldn't get to him without burning up. He figured that gave him enough time to figure out a plan before he did anything else.  
  
"Can I play with him, grandmummy?" Drusilla asked. "I'm awfully hungry."  
  
"Now, Dru, you know that's not fair," Darla said pleasantly, not taking her eyes off of Wesley. "It's my turn to kill one of Angel's lackeys. After all, you just had one."  
  
And with that, the two vampires stepped back from the doorway, allowing him a better view of the inside.  
  
When Wesley recognized the figure slumped on the floor, he gasped in shock.  
  
The stake fell from his hand, and clattered on the pavement.  
  
***  
  
Neither Willow nor Tara spoke.  
  
The two of them were sitting on the bed, listening to the newsreader, whose voice emanated from the alarm clock on the desk, filling them both with worry with the words he told them.  
  
Willow had been filling Tara in on everything that had happened since the two of them got back from the party, and now they were about to head off to Buffy's house. They had tried to call there earlier, but nobody had picked up the phone. As Tara helped Willow bandage the deep gash on her hand, she had told Tara about coming home and finding Amy-rat eaten, and thinking for a while that Miss Kitty had been killed as well. Tara was troubled by this. She didn't think she had much of an idea what was going on yet, but she had a bad feeling. It was almost like intuition.  
  
Shortly after Willow had finished, Tara had switched on the radio, wanting some music to help lighten her mood a little. And it was only a few minutes later, as they were about to get up and leave, when the news report had come through, and they had dropped everything to listen.  
  
"... young male was carrying no identification, but he was taken to Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, and was pronounced dead on arrival. Local authorities refused to speculate on who was responsible for this horrific attack, but stated that the victim had been severely mauled, and had probably been clinically dead for a few hours before his body was discovered. Onlookers at the crime scene were visibly shaken, and ..."  
  
"Oh, no," Tara said, pale-faced, and shaken. She looked over at Willow. "What could have ..."  
  
"Shh," Willow instantly prompted her girlfriend, not wanting to miss a word of the report.  
  
"... second victim was discovered just a few minutes ago in another alley, two blocks from where the first victim was found, and has been identified as Charles Gunn, a resident of Los Angeles. Once again, police refused to speculate on his attacker, but an eyewitness who was quickly taken from the scene by police stated that the body was found looking horribly savaged. This marks the second killing in Sunnydale in the space of just a few hours, and residents are already fearing the possibility of a serial killer. More news as it develops."  
  
T.B.C.  
  
***  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico for the next Big Bad  
  
http://www.misskittyfantastico.co.uk/ 


	21. Something You Might Not Expect To Find I...

Whiskers Of Fury (21/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers - Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Chris Marlowe, cile, Cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, Echoes of the Mind, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, Shadowz, silver, Slayerette2002, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead & Y_slaybelle.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know it's been a long time since I've updated this fic, but there have been a few things getting in the way recently. Still, my apologies to people who have read and reviewed so kindly and have been waiting for this chapter to appear, because I'd hate to have lost any of you. I was only having a bit of fun when I wrote the first few chapters to this story about a year ago, but you guys are a big part of the reason I've stuck with it for this long. But enough about me.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 21 - Something You Might Not Expect To Find In A Motel Room  
  
***  
  
"Window."  
  
"Nope."  
  
Angel raised his eyebrows. "Not window? Okay, uh ... walls."  
  
Fred grinned and shook her head, giggling slightly. She was sitting cross- legged at the foot of the room's single bed, while Angel sat nearby in the room's only chair. "Nope," she said again.  
  
Angel smiled back at her. "Not window or walls? This is tricky. Uhh ..." Fred continued to grin as Angel looked thoughtfully around the room, up and down, left and right, before finally facing her again and shrugging. "I give up. What is it?"  
  
Fred's grin grew even wider. "Water."  
  
Angel looked confused. "Water?" he asked her. "There's no water in here."  
  
"Yes, there is." Fred pointed past the vampire. Angel turned in that direction, and now noticed a small pool of water in the far corner, staining the carpet a darker shade of brown. "I think there's a leaking pipe somewhere."  
  
The vampire looked back at her. "I guess I'm just not cut out for this game."  
  
"Well, you know," Fred mocked playfully. "Some people have it, some don't."  
  
Angel looked surprised. "Oh, is that a fact, Fred? Well, maybe I can stump you as well."  
  
Fred giggled again. "Go on, then."  
  
"Okay, I will." Angel looked around the room for a few moments, trying not to clue Fred in on the direction he was looking in. "Eye-Spy with my little eye, something beginning with ..."  
  
The door opened, and Angel broke off. He and Fred both turned to face Lorne as he came into the room. The green-skinned Pylean was moving quickly, almost jumping in through the doorway, before quickly slamming it shut behind him. He turned toward Fred and Angel, and answered their questioning looks with a deep exhale. "I'm trying to stay incognito, I really am, but honestly, it's like a game of Hide N' Go Seek with these people," he told them. "Everywhere you look, someone's carrying a stack of sheets and knocking on someone else's door. Normally I wouldn't bother trying to stay out of sight - I'd just stroll on up and say howdy - but if we're gonna keep a low profile here, I'd prefer the proprietors of this fine establishment remain immune to the fact they've got a green guy with horns bunking in one of their deluxe suites."  
  
"In Sunnydale, they probably wouldn't give you a second glance even if they did see you," Angel responded.  
  
Lorne looked unimpressed, almost wounded. "So I'm just run-of-the-mill in this town, is that it?" He moved to the other side of the room, and looked out the window. "Angelcakes, it's all about standing out from the crowd. Making a statement. You know that."  
  
"The other guys aren't back yet?" Fred asked him.  
  
"No, not yet." Lorne sighed, turning back to face her. "I wish they'd hurry up, though. I haven't eaten a thing since last night, and I turn into Captain Cranky if I haven't had any breakfast. They'd better have brought my jelly donut."  
  
Angel sighed. He was getting a little impatient himself, and more than a little anxious. He recognised this anxiety, because he had seen it in Cordelia's eyes before she had set out with Wes and Gunn. Being back in Sunnydale was giving him butterflies. "Look, they'll be back when they get back, alright? All we can do right now is wait for them."  
  
Fred looked at Angel again. "So, you spy with your little eye, something beginning with ..."  
  
Lorne smiled. He liked this game.  
  
***  
  
As vampires, the reflexes of Darla and Drusilla were so quick that the door had already slammed shut in his face by the time the vial of holy water had left his hand. The vial smashed against the door, fragments of glass raining down on the pavement, and some of the water splashed across his shoes.  
  
He stood still for a few moments, breathing hard, mouth hanging open. In the back of his mind, he was relieved to have found the holy water in one his jacket pockets, but his brain was barely functioning above autopilot right now.  
  
He heard a muffled slamming sound, or thought he did. The back door of the butcher shop? If so, then Darla and Drusilla had already fled, not a threat for the time being. It was daylight, so they wouldn't have left the building unless there was nearby sewer access.  
  
He could now hear a pounding sound, and realised it was his own heart, thudding in his ears. He was slowly regaining his breath now, but the events of the last minute and a half were still sinking in. He was clear- headed enough to know that his eyes hadn't tricked him, and it was Cordelia he had seen lying on the floor behind the two vampires, not moving. Lifeless.  
  
"God, no," Wesley Wyndham-Pryce whispered. "Not like this." His face was pale, his eyes wide open in shock.  
  
But he was collecting himself, and beginning to think more rationally. Two things were clear to him, maybe the only two. One ... Cordelia was dead. The second ... He had to find Angel, and fast.  
  
Wesley bent down and picked up his stake, then turned and started running back up the street.  
  
***  
  
Amy Madison was less than happy.  
  
Spike and Anya sat on opposite ends of Spike's coffin, watching Amy as she paced back and forth. Neither of them were all that eager to open their mouths and say something which might aggravate the witch further. Spike had just finished filling the women in on the events of his night out, and both he and Anya knew that Amy had reacted badly to the news.  
  
Amy stopped pacing, then turned to look at Spike again, putting her hands on her hips. Spike almost flinched at the near-fury in her eyes, but managed to maintain his outwardly calm facade. "Two Slayers?" Amy repeated, staring Spike dead in the eye. "Not one, but two."  
  
"Yep." Better to keep his answers short and simple, Spike figured.  
  
Amy turned back away from the vampire and started pacing again. "And not only that, but those vampire floozies of yours as well? Darla and Drusilla are here, two Slayers are here, and you're sitting there like there's nothing at all to worry about?" She gave Spike another angry look, and glanced at Anya as well to let her know that she was adressing both of them with this question. Anya looked blankly back at her, then looked at Spike questioningly.  
  
"Relax," Spike told them. "We'll be out of here soon enough, and it won't matter how many old friends have been lured back to Sunnyhell."  
  
"Won't matter," Amy repeated. "Do you know how important today is, Spike? For all of us? Have you forgotten? Is that chip eating away at your undead brain? We can't risk anything or anybody jeopardising everything we've worked for! Everything we've planned! Not when we're so close! God, I can't believe you ran into Darla, Drusilla and Faith and let them all get away! If they knew what the three of us were doing, we'd be screwed!"  
  
"But they don't know," Spike responded firmly. "Which is why I let them get away. No sense in going around attacking everybody and arousing their suspicions. We're too close, like you said. The Scoobies think Anya's dead, they think you're dead, and none of them are going to send out a bloody search party if I suddenly disappear."  
  
"Right," Anya said, nodding enthusiastically. "And if Darla and Drusilla are back to stay like Spike says, then Buffy and the others will be too busy fighting them to even notice anything else that's going on."  
  
Amy stopped pacing, letting her arms fall to her sides. She let out a slow, deep breath, and seemed to relax. "Alright," she said, sounding calmer. "They've got no reason to suspect anything yet. But we're still putting everything at risk as long as we stay here."  
  
Spike opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by the sound of the crypt door swinging slowly open.  
  
Amy turned toward the door, her eyes open wide, a smile starting to form on her face. Spike and Anya stood up and followed Amy's gaze. As the door opened, their leader entered the crypt, and in that moment, all of them knew that everything was going to be alright.  
  
Miss Kitty Fantastico looked up at her minions, her green eyes glowing brightly in the darkness.  
  
T.B.C. 


	22. Look Ma, No Hand

Whiskers Of Fury (22/?)  
  
DEDICATION: To my "Whiskers" feedbackers: Amelia, bwit, chalkdusty, Cheryl, Chris Marlowe, cile, Cosmic, cyberwulf, Dayzee, Echoes of the Mind, elizabethdarcy, gyrlfrend, Jane McCartney, Jericho TGF, JJ, Katherine, Kelley and Shelley, Kendra A, kitkat, Lady Z, Levi Truelove, Lilyana, Little Bubbles, lwbush, MattyMatt, puckles, Rayven, Rikki, samson, Seven, Shadowfang, Shadowz, silver, Slayerette2002, superrmk, sweetkitten, TAMZ, transylvanian_concubine, Undead & Y_slaybelle.  
  
***  
  
CHAPTER 22 - Look Ma, No Hand  
  
***  
  
Buffy and Faith stepped up onto the front porch of the Summers house, then stopped as they reached the front door. They hadn't spoken since their confrontation up the street, but Buffy could tell by the look on Faith's face that she wasn't looking forward to this. It was the lawyer, Buffy guessed. Faith's reaction upon seeing him earlier hadn't exactly been a bold one.  
  
"You sure you wanna do this now?" Buffy asked her. "We could stay out here for awhile longer."  
  
Faith drew in a breath and let it out, seeming to collect herself. "Nah," the dark-haired Slayer replied. "It's cool." She said nothing more.  
  
Deciding to take Faith's word for it, Buffy turned back to the door, and raised her hand to knock.  
  
***  
  
Inside, Dawn was coming down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she looked into the kitchen and saw nobody. She looked into the living room and saw Giles sitting in one of the chairs, talking with the lawyer guy. Dawn couldn't hear what they were saying, but she knew Giles well enough to tell that whatever the conversation was about, it was bothering him. It was in the way he sat forward in the chair, hunched over. It was in the way he rubbed the top of his head, as if he had gotten a lump there by bumping it against something. She remained where she was for a moment, reluctant to walk in and disturb the two of them, but Giles looked up and noticed her.  
  
"Dawn, come in," he offered, waving a hand to tell her it was okay. Across from Giles, Lindsey looked over at Dawn for a moment, then his eyes moved to the door. Faith hadn't come back yet, and Lindsey was starting to think he'd seen the last of her. He had seen the stunned, almost frightened, look in her eyes, and he supposed it had been reflected in his, regardless of the way she had taken one look at him and fled in the opposite direction.  
  
Dawn came into the room, and stood beside Giles' chair. Giles was standing up. "Where is Xander?" he asked her.  
  
"He's upstairs," she answered. "Actually, that's kinda I wanted to talk to you about."  
  
"Oh, uh, can it wait?" Giles was moving toward the door. "I want to go out and find Buffy, and see if she's managed to get a hold of Faith."  
  
"Not really," Dawn told him. "It's pretty important."  
  
Giles stopped and looked back at her, studying her expression. Seeing she was serious, he nodded once, then looked back into the living room. "Can I get you something?" he asked Lindsey. "A drink?"  
  
"No, thanks," Lindsey answered, now getting to his feet as well.  
  
"Right, well, excuse me for a minute." Giles started walking into the kitchen, beckoning for Dawn to follow him. Lindsey watched the two of them as they left the room, then looked back at the door.  
  
A moment later, a knock sounded.  
  
***  
  
Buffy was a little surprised when the door opened and she founding herself looking at Lindsey. She supposed he had been closest to the door, but she still found it a little strange that Giles or Dawn hadn't answered instead.  
  
Lindsey stepped back to allow room for the Slayers to walk in. As he did, the phone started ringing. Buffy moved past Lindsey, and headed over to the answer it. She saw Dawn and Giles in the kitchen, her sister also moving toward the phone. Buffy held up a hand to let Dawn know that she would get the phone, and Dawn turned back to Giles. As Buffy picked up the phone and put it to her ear, she noticed that Dawn and Giles were speaking to each other, and probably had been before the phone rang, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.  
  
Faith stepped into the house, pushing the door shut behind her. She also moved past Lindsey, not making eye contact with him, then stopped just behind Buffy. She was facing toward the kitchen, but she could feel Lindsey's eyes staring at her.  
  
"Will?" Buffy was saying. "What's going on?"  
  
***  
  
Willow and Tara were standing by the phone in their dorm room. Tara was putting on her coat, and Willow was already wearing hers. Tara was watching Willow with some concern as she spoke to Buffy over the phone."Buffy, we just heard on the radio," Willow said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Something's been attacking people out there. We've gotta do something."  
  
"We will," Buffy assured her. "Could you and Tara come over here? Giles and Xander are already here, and I wanna keep everybody together until we figure something out."  
  
"Yeah, we were about to come over," Willow answered, sounding relieved. "We'll be there soon." She hung up the phone, and looked at Tara. "Let's go."  
  
"How's your hand?" Tara asked her girlfriend, looking down at the bandage that was wrapped around Willow's right hand.  
  
"It's okay. It doesn't sting so much now." Willow frowned. "Why did Miss Kitty scratch me like that? And why did she run away?"  
  
"I don't know," Tara answered. They started out of the room. "Maybe we could try and find her while we're going to Buffy's."  
  
"I hope we do," Willow said, shutting the door behind them as they stepped out into the corridor. "But we shouldn't stay outside too long."  
  
"I hear that."  
  
***  
  
"She was still in bed, Giles. That's what Xander said when I asked him."  
  
Giles looked closely at Dawn. "That can't be right, the entire building was empty when I went there to check on Xander and Anya."  
  
"That's what I'm saying," Dawn said, a little impatiently. "Anya was there when Xander left, but she wasn't there when you got there!"  
  
"What are you saying?" Giles looked confused now.  
  
"Well ... don't know, exactly," Dawn answered, her voice losing its enthusiasm for a moment. "But it doesn't make sense, Giles. Something weird is going on around here, I can tell."  
  
***  
  
Buffy hung up the phone, and turned to Faith. "Why don't you go sit down?" she offered, motioning to the living room. Faith nodded, and went in.  
  
Lindsey coughed to get Buffy's attention. She turned to face him, looking mistrustfully at him. "What is she doing here?" Lindsey asked, pointing in Faith's direction. Faith had sat down in one of the chairs, and was looking around the room, her face devoid of expression.  
  
"What's it got to do with you?" Buffy fired back. This surprised Lindsey into silence. Buffy looked at him a moment longer, then turned to face Giles and Dawn as they came out of the kitchen.  
  
"Who was that on the phone?" Giles asked, absently rubbing the lump on the top of his head.  
  
"Willow," Buffy answered. "She and Tara are on their way over."  
  
"Good," Giles said, more to himself than to Buffy.  
  
Dawn looked into the living room, watching Faith. After a few moments, Faith looked up at Dawn, then quickly looked away again.  
  
***  
  
Ten minutes ago, Charles Gunn was watching his own body being loaded into the back of an ambulance.  
  
Sunnydale's main street was quiet again. The crowd that had quickly gathered at the scene of whatever the hell had just happened here was now slowly dispersing. People were drifting aimlessly in different directions, none of them speaking, but plenty of them looking shocked, even frightened.  
  
Then it was just him, save for the occasional pedestrian who strolled casually by, not noticing him standing there.  
  
Gunn tried to piece his memories of the last half hour together, but they were still kinda hazy. He definitely remembered hearing a noise - it sounded like something heavy being knocked over - coming from an alley as he walked past it, then walking into the alley to try and find whatever had made that noise. But he couldn't remember what had happened next.  
  
The next thing he could remember was standing amongst a crowd of people as they watched two paramedics wheeling a stretcher and loading it into the back of the ambulance they had arrived in. Stretched out on the stretcher was Gunn's body. It wasn't moving, and had been covered with a sheet and strapped down, but Gunn knew it was his, all the same. He couldn't see it, but he knew. He didn't know where this knowledge came from, just that it felt right to him.  
  
So now, here he was. Standing on his own on the sidewalk while people went merrily on their way to wherever they were going and didn't even look in his direction.  
  
All of this disturbed him, but it wasn't until he tried to speak to someone and they didn't hear him that he really started to get a bad feeling.  
  
As he turned to look back down the street in the direction he had come, he saw a man dressed in a dark blue suit and carrying a briefcase in one hand walking towards him. As the man passed him (he was only about two feet away at this point) Gunn said, "Excuse me, you know how to get to the hospital from here?"  
  
He got no answer. The man just kept on walking, not even looking at Gunn. Gunn figured the guy had a thing about strange people coming up to him in the street. You met people like that sometimes. In a town like LA, it was pretty common. Under normal circumstances, he might have just let it slide and waited till somebody else came along, but something told Gunn that standing around doing nothing at the moment was a bad idea.  
  
He jogged a few steps to catch up with the man in the suit, and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
That's what he tried to do, anyway.  
  
But his hand didn't actually touch the man's shoulder. Instead, his hand passed through the man's shoulder and the top part of his arm, and the man still didn't notice him at all. He kept on walking, swinging his briefcase by his side.  
  
Gunn hadn't expected that. He slowly raised his hand up in front of his face and looked at it. He turned toward the door of the building he was standing in front of, and reached for the knob. Again, his hand passed through it, and the tips of his fingers actually disappeared into the door for a moment before he let his arm fall back to his side.  
  
Now he was starting to panic.  
  
He stretched out an arm and took a step closer to the door. This time, his entire hand disappeared into the door, followed by his arm, all the way up to the elbow.  
  
Gunn let out a short yell, then literally jumped back away from the door. The lower half of his arm and his hand reappared, and the door was undisturbed. There was no hole in the door where his arm had been, not even the tiniest crack.  
  
"What the hell is going on here?" Gunn whispered, now scared out of his mind.  
  
T.B.C. 


End file.
